A Need for Dates
by YesAnimeCharactersCanBeSexy
Summary: Sequel to 'A Need for Spoons'. Cid takes matters into his own hands and delivers an ultimatum to Vincent and Cloud: Ask their respective girls out on a date within one month or suffer the consequences. Yuffentine, Cloti, mild Zaerith.
1. Chapter 1: Mr Cidney Matchmaker Highwind

A/N: Hello everyone, and welcome to _A Need for Dates_! Before we get started, I'd just like to remind you that this is a sequel to _A Need For Spoons_, and while you don't absolutely _have_ to read it to understand this story, there are several references as well as direct plot development from _Spoons,_ so I would recommend that you read it first (no, this is not shameless advertising...well, maybe a little). Anyways, it's great to be back writing humour again, and I hope you enjoy.

Also, as _Spoons_ was written before I played DoC, and I ignored it then, I am also ignoring it now. So Choas is still kicking and DeepGround never was.

Rating mainly for language, and some dirty thoughts.

Disclaimer: I don't own anything except the cake that inspired this (that is now, alas, all gone).

* * *

**Chapter 1: Mr Cidney Matchmaker Highwind**

Vincent sighed, feeling distinctly harassed.

"This is foolish, and a waste of time," he stated bluntly. He rose to leave, but a set of hands gripped his shoulders and forced him back down into the chair.

"Sit your ass down, Valentine," came Cid's gruff voice from behind him. "No one's leaving 'til we get this settled, got it? 'Sides, I locked the door."

"You realize that'll only make us break it down, right?" pointed out Cloud, who was leaning against the wall with his arms crossed, looking just as disgruntled as Vincent felt.

"Do ya _want_ my Gospel up yer ass, Spike?"

"What I _want_ is to leave. Now."

"Ya stupid fucks, I'm just trying to help y'all out. Now sit down, Spike, and listen to me."

Cloud seemed to consider ignoring this, glaring at Cid, but eventually uncrossed his arms and sat down with a distinct air of sullenness next to Vincent. The pilot came into Vincent's line of sight, looking markedly pleased. He stood opposite Vincent and Cloud, scrutinizing them.

Vincent balefully returned Cid's stare. The pilot had picked him up the day before, telling him Reeve had an urgent mission waiting for him. Now he found himself locked in the Missions Briefing room aboard the _Shera_, along with Cloud, who apparently had also been lied to regarding exactly _why_ Cid had picked them up.

As it turned out, there was no mission. Well, Vincent amended, no WRO mission. Cid has his own plot in motion. One that regarded – Vincent scowled just thinking about it – _matchmaking._

Cid had somehow convinced himself that Vincent had...more than mere friendly feelings for one Yuffie Kisaragi.

Which was completely ridiculous, of course.

'_Liar_,' drifted Chaos' voice from the back of his mind. He narrowed his eyes. His demons had apparently decided to take Cid's side. He glanced at Cloud, who was glaring at Cid. Cid was trying to hook him up with Tifa, the one idea of the pilot's which Vincent fully agreed with.

"Now," Cid started, patting his various pockets for a pack of cigarettes. "Will one of yas explain to me when y'all became such pussies?"

Vincent continued to stare, not even bothering to answer such a ridiculous accusation. Cloud scowled next to him, and likewise held his silence.

"You two, who have been in more battles than Reno's got hookers, are afraid to ask out a lady. It's pathetic!" He was temporarily distracted as his search for a cig came up successful, and he took a moment to light it and take a long drag.

Vincent took advantage of the opening.

"You don't find that hypocritical, coming from you?" he asked dryly. Cid blinked at him.

"What the fuck you talkin' bout, Vince?" he asked, confused.

"Well," said Vincent calmly, studying his gauntlet in mock thought. "Was it not you who lived with Shera for nearly eight years before you told her how you felt?"

Cloud smirked. Cid scowled.

"'S not the point, fuckhead. We're talkin' 'bout you, now."

Vincent gave a small shrug, keeping his face blank.

"It just seems that you should be the last person giving us advice – not that I need it, though Cloud may – on this particular subject."

Cloud's smirk disappeared to be replaced by a frown as he glared at Vincent. Cid, however, just grinned, putting Vincent immediately on his guard.

"You seem a bit cranky, Vince. Missin' the ninja brat already?"

"Do not call her 'brat'," he responded immediately before he could catch himself. "And I do not _miss_ her," he added quickly at Cid's victorious smile. The smile didn't fade, instead just taking on a knowing edge. He inwardly berated himself for his lack of self-control; he should not have risen to such obvious bait.

But he didn't like it when Cid called Yuffie a brat. His lack of respect for her rankled him, even though he knew that Cid was just saying it affectionately.

"Cloud told me 'bout how you went and spooned the kid," Cid commented casually, puffing out a ring of smoke.

Vincent glared at Cloud, who at least had the shame to fidget guiltily.

"Did Cloud _also_ happen to mention I did so _to save her life_," he growled, never taking his glare off the swordsman next to him. "And she's not a kid," he added, despite himself.

Cid just raised his eyebrows in a look that spoke clearly of disbelief.

"Ya know, I wasn't aware spooning was a way to save lives – "

"She was hypothermic and body heat was the only way to keep her warm," he snapped.

"Sure, sure, I gotcha," Cid said in a tone that suggested he didn't believe Vincent for a moment. Cloud snickered. He immediately regretted it as Cid turned his attention on him.

"Don't even get me started on you, ya imbecile," he threatened. "Yer even worse than vampire here, ignoring a girl like Tifa for so long. Fuck, even I can see she's in love with ya."

Cloud immediately flushed red.

"I haven't ignored her," he mumbled. "And she's not...she's not – " Vincent watched with an inward smirk as he struggled to even speak the words. "She's not in _love_ with me," he finally hissed.

Cid just shook his head.

"Idiots. The both of ya." He clapped his hands together. "It'sa good thing I'm here, or who knows where y'all would end up. Now I'm gonna tell ya what's what. We're gonna have a little competition. Everyone enjoys a bit of a contest, right?" He grinned, pointing in their general direction.

"Whichever one of you suckers asks his lady out on a date first wins, plain 'n simple."

Vincent snorted.

"You seem to be forgetting that I have no wish to ask Yuffie out on a date," he deadpanned.

"Liar," said Cid, Cloud, and Chaos simultaneously. He heard Hellmasker snicker quietly.

He frowned – physically and mentally – at them, crossing his arms over his chest defensively.

"That's odd," Cid said. "'Cause I seem to remember you lookin' pretty damn comfy when she was lying on yer chest."

Vincent's frown grew more pronounced as he vividly recalled the incident a week ago. "I was concerned for Yuffie's wellbeing," he said carefully_._

"Shit, Valentine, you're more in denial than a father seeing positive on his little girl's pregnancy test," Cid barked. "Cloud, you must be lovin' the thought of takin' Tifa on a date."

Cloud shifted uncomfortably. He fidgeted for a few moments before sighing.

"...Maybe," he said grudgingly. Cid beamed.

"Don't worry, I got a plan that'll help the both of yas," he said eagerly, rubbing his hands together. Vincent fought the suddenly strong urge to flee. Cid turned away from them to rummage through some nondescript boxes lying in the corner.

"Whatcy'all need," he grunted as he sifted through the box's contents, "Is some background knowledge, some research, as it is."

Vincent's eyes widened. He desperately hoped Cid wasn't about to reveal some long-lost stash of aged pornography. Cloud, who had a look of horror on his face, appeared to be thinking along similar lines.

"Aha!" Cid's hand emerged from the box in triumph, clutching several DVDs. Vincent closed his eyes briefly, thinking his fears confirmed.

"This is the stuff ya need to watch and learn from," Cid said, showing one of the DVDs to Vincent and Cloud. Cloud frowned as he read the cover.

"..._The Notebook?_ What's that about?"

"Some cheesy romance," Cid said, looking uncomfortable, "The ladies love it, apparently."

Vincent quirked an eyebrow.

"I wouldn't have thought you were into romance movies, Cid," he said innocently.

Cid glowered at him. "I'm not, alright, these are Shera's."

Cloud had picked up another of the DVDs, looking at it curiously.

"_Titanic, _Part One?" He flipped the DVD over to look at the back and gave a loud snort of laughter.

Vincent and Cid looked at him questioningly.

Containing his laughter, Cloud sat up straight, putting on a prim face, and carefully read in a voice several tones higher than it normally was:

"Property of Cidney Highwind, Rocket Town." He dissolved into a fit of snickering once more as Cid's jaw dropped.

"Gimme that!" he yelled, snatching the DVD away from Cloud to look at it himself. "Goddammit, Shera!" he cursed a moment later. He looked back up at Cloud and Vincent. "Shera wrote that there, alright, it ain't mine."

"Of course, Cidney," Vincent deadpanned, finding himself unable to withhold a smirk at the pilot's expense.

"Screw the both of yas," Cid snarled. When Vincent's smirk didn't disappear and Cloud's laughter continued, he snapped.

"That's it, dickheads," he fumed. "Y'all got one month to ask your girl out on a date, or else I tell them that you spooned them."

Vincent's smirk instantly disappeared, and Cloud's laughter came to a strangled halt as he visibly blanched.

"...You _wouldn't_," Cloud breathed, looking horrified.

Cid gave a grim smile. "Sure as the wind I would."

"But Tifa would kill me!" Cloud gasped.

Vincent was entertaining various imaginings of Conformer being embedded in his face, but he tried to resist Cid's blackmailing nonetheless.

"I did it to save her life. It was perfectly reasonable. Yuffie would understand," he stated.

Cid gave a loud guffaw.

"Yuffie, reasonable?"

Vincent struggled with himself, but found he was forced to agree. He resisted the urge to sulk.

Cloud looked resigned to his fate, and was picking up _The Notebook_ to examine it sceptically.

"Girls love this stuff?"

Cid grunted an affirmation.

Cloud glanced at Vincent, holding up the DVD and sighing.

"I guess we should prepare ourselves as best we can," he said.

Vincent just glared at Cid, an idea occurring to him.

"I could just incapacitate you in some way, Cid. Then you wouldn't be able to tell anyone."

Cid shrugged, seeming unconcerned.

"Then you'd have to deal with an angry Shera," he pointed out.

Vincent frowned. This was true.

Cid chuckled. "I'd pay to see that."

"You wouldn't be able to _see_. 'Incapacitated' usually incorporates unconsciousness or _death_ of some sort," Vincent shot back.

Cid shrugged again. "I'd get Reeve to videotape it for me. Anyways, I'm gonna leave you two to your research." He grinned at them once more, throwing a mock salute their way.

"Good luck, boys. Was nice knowin' ya."

He strode from the room, locking the door behind him.

Vincent looked at Cloud. Cloud looked at Vincent.

"I think we're screwed, Vincent," Cloud sighed, but stood to put on the DVD. "But we might as well give it a shot, I guess. Besides, I'll admit that going on a date with Tifa would..." he trailed off for a moment, apparently lost in a daydream.

"It wouldn't be the worst thing in the world by any means," he finished, flushing and rubbing the back of his neck.

Vincent said nothing as the movie started.

_Going on a date with Yuffie_.

He steadfastly ignored the part of him that was agreeing with Cloud's assessment.

* * *

"...Should we be taking notes on this?" Cloud asked a few minutes into the movie. In his peripheral vision he saw Vincent give him a disdainful look.

"This is ridiculous," he heard the gunman mutter.

"C'mon, Vincent, it isn't that bad. At least you know Yuffie likes you," Cloud said, his eyes never leaving the screen.

"And, how, pray, did you come to that conclusion?" Vincent asked, his voice dripping with scorn.

"Well, the fact she took a _picture of you with your shirt off and put it as her background on her phone_ kinda gave it away," he reminded.

"That proves nothing," Vincent replied moodily. Cloud just snorted.

"Why else would she take a picture of you shirtless, then?"

"Shall I point out that Tifa _also_ took a picture of _you_ without a shirt?" Vincent shot back, ignoring Cloud's question.

Cloud scowled. "It wasn't because she likes me, it was for some regular at the bar."

Vincent was quiet for a few moments.

"...Do you actually believe that?"

Cloud's scowl became more pronounced. Half of him wanted to say yes, because then he wouldn't have to admit to Tifa having..._feelings_, for him, while half of him wanted to say no, because that would mean that Tifa had taken a picture of him sans shirt for her own personal use. The thought filled him with an almost giddy happiness and a smug sense of manliness.

However, it would also mean he had to admit to Vincent that Tifa liked him, which at this point he refused to do.

"Yes, I do, thanks."

He expected a comeback, but was greeted only with silence. Surprised, he looked over to see Vincent deep in thought.

"...Does it seem strange to you that both Yuffie _and_ Tifa got pictures of us at the same time?" Vincent asked quietly, glancing at him.

Cloud frowned in thought. It did, now that he thought about it. In fact, it seemed _very_ strange.

A small part of his brain specifically reserved for paranoia started spitting out conspiracy theories immediately.

Another part of his brain pointed out something else.

"How the hell did we not think about that before?" he asked, feeling distinctly annoyed with himself for missing something like that.

"I suppose we were distracted at the time the pictures were revealed," Vincent supplied. Cloud nodded slowly in agreement, then stopped, blinking, when he realized what exactly he was agreeing _too_.

Vincent also seemed to realize what he'd said. Or not said.

"Distracted by work, of course," the gunman added quickly.

Cloud nodded rapidly. "Right, right, of course, work."

_Not by the fact that Tifa had just popped out of nowhere and you were busy remembering that night in Frelt_._ Nope nope nope!_

He sighed. Who was he kidding? He hadn't been able to stop thinking about that night – how good it had felt, to hold her in his arms. He suddenly remembered Cid's threat, and he gulped. He liked his anatomy how it was, thank you, which meant he had to get Tifa out on a date before she tore him limb from limb.

"So...what are you gonna do to get Yuffie to go on a date with you?"

Vincent gave him a look that Cloud usually saved for particularly disgusting pieces of garbage.

"Don't give me that look," Cloud snapped. "Pretend all you like, but Yuffie is gonna kill you if she finds out you spooned her."

Vincent gave an unwilling grunt of agreement.

"So what're you going to do about it?" Cloud prodded when Vincent refused to be more forthcoming.

"...I have no idea," muttered Vincent.

Cloud cursed silently. He'd been hoping for some ideas from the older man. "Me neither," he groused, slouching further into his chair, watching the movie with little interest.

"...Think she'd go out with me if I dangled myself from a Ferris Wheel?" he asked Vincent curiously, eyeing the scene unfolding in the movie.

"No," stated Vincent bluntly. Cloud scowled, getting the distinct feeling Vincent enjoyed crushing his vague hopes. "You could fall from that height and be perfectly fine. Your threat would be worthless."

They sat in silence for several minutes, watching the movie.

"...I can't see Yuffie watching a movie like this," Vincent said, staring with a vaguely nonplussed look at the two lovers laughing on the screen.

"Yeah, I don't think Tifa would either," Cloud responded, feeling uncomfortable just watching the interaction of the couple.

"...Why are we even watching this ridiculous movie?" Vincent asked.

"Because we're totally screwed and could use any tip we could get?" Cloud suggested.

Vincent was silent at that. Cloud knew he agreed.

* * *

Aerith gave a soft sigh.

"I love this movie. Their love is so beautiful..." she sighed again, giving a watery-eyed smile.

Zack fidgeted. There were some things about women, even Aerith, he would never be able to understand.

"Who do you think will get their girl first?" he asked her, feeling the need to distract himself from the romance unfolding on the screen below. Aerith gave another sigh, this one distinctly more frustrated.

"They're both so hopeless at this. I mean, we already had to get Cid to lock them in a room because they practically ran away after what happened a week ago."

Zack nodded in agreement.

Aerith suddenly perked up, a certain gleam that Zack had long since learned to fear appearing in her emerald eyes.

"Wanna have another bet?" she asked, waggling her eyebrows suggestively.

Zack stared at her. "Do you have a gambling addiction or something?"

Aerith pouted, placing her hands on her hips.

"C'mon, you know you want to. It's way more fun using divine intervention when there's something personal on the line."

Zack tried to resist, he really did. But Aerith put on her puppy dog look, and he instantly broke down.

"Alright. Who do you wanna bet on?"

Aerith looked down, studying the two contestants.

"Hmm...Vincent's still in denial, but Cloud is the master of procrastination when it comes to dealing with his feelings."

Zack nodded in agreement once more. "Well if you can't decide, I'm gonna pick Vincent, for consistency's sake. Yuffie should've won the first time anyways."

Aerith glared at him. "I swear, if you light another garbage can on fire – "

Zack grinned impishly at her. "Who, me? I would never do such a thing!"

Aerith's glare wavered under his charmed smile, and she gave a soft laugh.

"Very well, then, Mr. Fair," she said. "Same stakes as last time?"

Zack grinned, nodding, then cracked his knuckles. "One month?"

"One month."

It was time to get to work.


	2. Chapter 2: Dirty Thoughts

A/N: I want to thank all the reviewers for the overwhelming response to the first chapter. I hope the rest of this lives up to your expectations. And apologies for the rather slow update, I was away for a week. Anyhoo, here ya go.

PS: Cloud is just too much fun. Nyuk.

* * *

**Chapter 2: Dirty Thoughts**

Vincent didn't move as the _Shera_ gave one last lurch before settling down. He was busy staring at the screen in front of him, completely amazed by the _absolute_ stupidity of the man who was unnecessarily sacrificing himself to save his _twue wuve._

He was distracted from the utter garbage he had been forced to endure for the last several hours by the locked door clicking and sliding open with a bang.

"We're in Edge, move yer sorry asses, ladies!" Cid barked. "One month and counting, startin' now!"

Vincent rose smoothly to his feet, wanting nothing more than to escape from the sinking ship of a movie, roughly barging past the smug-looking pilot and heading for the nearest exit.

"Someone's awfully eager," Cid called out behind him, and he stopped for a moment, automatic denial kicking in, before he clenched his jaw and moved onwards. He could hear Cloud's thumping footsteps behind him.

"'Til February eighteenth, suckers! I'll check in on ya now and then!" came Cid's fading voice. Vincent managed to restrain himself from punching something. Barely.

Moments after he and Cloud exited the airship, it took off, leaving them with nothing but swirling dust on the outskirts of Edge.

Vincent abruptly thought of something.

"Yuffie is in Wutai right now, is she not?" he asked, trying to keep the eagerness out of his voice.

"She suuuure-" Vincent almost started to smile – "isn't," Cloud finished, looking rather happy about the thought that he wouldn't have to suffer alone. Vincent glared at him. "She's still helping Tifa with the bar, and I don't think she intends to leave anytime soon."

Vincent said nothing, as an image of Cid gleefully poking a hole in the little bubble of hope he had possessed so briefly flashed through his mind.

"So," Cloud interjected into the silence that had settled.

Vincent remained silent. He wished could go hide in his coffin.

"...What do we do now?"

Vincent looked at him, an eyebrow raised a fraction of a degree.

"You're the fearless leader, so lead on, fearless leader," he said snidely, still stinging over the loss of his precious hope-bubble.

Cloud frowned at him.

"No need to get all...snippety," he snapped back. "Look, Vincent, we're stuck in this together whether we like it or not, so we might as well work together, right?"

With great effort, Vincent nodded grudgingly.

"I...apologize," he said slowly.

"Good," Cloud replied shortly. "Because we are so..." he trailed off, looking for a suitable word.

"Screwed?" Vincent suggested delicately.

Cloud sighed. "Exactly." He gave Vincent a sideways look, his vivid blue eyes piercing him thoughtfully. "You talk more than you used to."

Vincent shrugged, not really knowing how to respond to this.

Cloud stared at him for a moment, then grinned.

"Must be all the hanging around with Yuffie," he said, before turning and striding towards the city.

Vincent glared at his back, and stubbornly refused to follow for a few moments, before he gave in and started trailing after the blonde.

/\/\/\

They arrived at the bar after nearly an hour's trudging through the city. The journey had passed in silence; now they stood outside the bar, both staring at the door.

Vincent really, _really_ wanted to go back to his coffin. Or save the world again. Or die. Anything that involved him _not_ walking through that door.

'_Why so anti-social, Valentine?'_ came Chaos' hiss of a voice. _'I thought the shinobi was your friend.'_

''_Friend' being the key word,' _Vincent emphasized, though even admitting that much made him uncomfortable.

He still wasn't quite used to having friends.

"I guess we should go in," Cloud said beside him, though he made no move towards the door. "I mean, really, how bad could it be?"

This question instantly aroused a flood of vivid possibilities in Vincent's mind, all of them dealing with certain precious parts of him suffering severe harm.

Cloud seemed have similar thoughts, as he quickly added, "On second thought, maybe we should go hide in a cave for the rest of our lives."

"Shouldn't we be bringing them a gift of sorts? Flowers, or..." he racked his brain, trying to bring up his limited, and mostly poor, experience in these matters. "Chocolate?"

"You're absolutely right, let's go get them something! And we should make sure we look around to find the best, uh, gifts, don't want to get them something subpar."

"Yes, of course," Vincent agreed hurriedly, ready to put his excellent stalling skills to use, and they both turned to leave.

"Vincent! Cloud! Good timing, I'd say!"

Vincent closed his eyes, convinced some higher power must be working against them.

"Hey, Reeve," he heard Cloud say next to him. He just settled for a nod at the man who was rapidly approaching them, a Cait Sith in tow.

"Phew, what a day," Reeve said as he drew level with them. "I could really go for a drink. I swear, if I have to hear one more comment from the Costa representative on the benefits of body oils and Speedos I'm gonna kill myself."

He marched passed them and up the steps, opening that dreaded door wide. Seeing that Cloud and Vincent had not immediately followed, he turned, smiling. "Coming you two?"

The open doorway seemed to leer evilly at Vincent. However, Cloud, with a strained smile, started slowly towards the door, and Vincent had no choice but to follow.

As he entered the bar, he looked around cautiously, feeling more on-edge than he had during countless missions as a Turk. Seeing no sign of Yuffie, he shut the door slowly behind him, with the sensation that he had just cut off his one escape route.

"Hey, guys!" called a pretty voice, and he nodded at Tifa, who was behind the bar, waving at them.

Cloud froze, staring at the barmaid. Vincent poked him hard in the back, wanting a meat-shield between him and a possible ninja appearance at all times. Cloud scowled at him over his shoulder, before moving rather rigidly towards the bar.

"Hey, Tifa," he said. Vincent smirked at how strained his voice was. Cloud must have somehow sensed this, for as he turned to glare at Vincent, he asked, with a pointed, unpleasant grin at the gunman, "Yuffie around?"

Vincent felt the smirk fall off his face, hoping Cloud's hair might spontaneously fall out if he glared at him long enough.

"Yeah, she's around somewhere. Why?"

"Oh, Vincent was looking for her," Cloud replied. Vincent's hand twitched towards Cerberus.

Tifa looked up at this, watching Vincent with a suddenly shrewd expression.

"Oh?" she asked, and Vincent had never heard one syllable carry so much inquisitorial weight. "What for, Vincent?"

He became aware of Reeve, who was also watching the unfolding conversation with a curious expression, his eyes sharp.

"She left some of her weapons with me, and I would like to return them," he improvised quickly, glad that his voice was its usual careful monotone, keeping his face blank.

Some of the inquisitiveness left Tifa's face, but she was still watching him more carefully then he felt comfortable with. "You can drop them off in her room. Upstairs, first door on the right."

He nodded, grateful for the excuse to flee the scene, plotting a thousand painful scenarios for Cloud as he did so. So intent was he on his sadistic imaginings that he didn't realise he had automatically stepped into the first room on the right. He froze on the threshold, convinced that Yuffie would fly out at him at any moment, but the room was blessedly empty, and he let out a small sigh of relief.

He took one step into the room, and then, in the space of half a second, he registered quick footsteps, had something slam painfully into his back, pitched forward, and had all his breath knocked out of him as he slammed into the floor.

"VINNIE!" squealed a voice that was much too high-pitched for its own good, and he winced as his ears protested.

"Hello, Yuffie," he gasped, fighting for air. It didn't help matters that he had a weight lying on top of him and something was constricting his sides –

Oh. _Oh._ That would be the woman that was lying on his back and hugging him for all she was worth.

He swallowed nervously, suddenly feeling much too hot.

"Yuffie, could you please get off?" he asked, his voice sounding slightly strangled. "I...need to breathe."

The weight immediately lifted, and he gulped in air gratefully, ignoring the part of him that was missing her presence on top of him.

"Heh, sorry 'bout that Vince!" Yuffie apologized, not sounding terribly sincere, as she grabbed him and helped him to his feet. He looked at her, and blinked.

Her hair was wet, sticking everywhere, without a headband holding it in place. All of her visible skin – which there was a lot of, as always, and Vincent found he was now hyperaware of that fact – was flushed, and from the strong smell of shampoo drifting off her she had just gotten out of the shower. Her clothes were sticking to her, and –

Galian let out a loud wolf-whistle that echoed inside his skull. Vincent hurriedly turned his stare to the wall over her shoulder.

"That's quite alright, Yuffie," he said, his voice several pitches higher that it should be (which was obviously because he had been half-choked to death, and not for other, more perverted and _untrue_ reasons).

He saw her look turn to one of concern.

"You alright, McVinVin? You look kinda feverish..." she stood on tiptoes, raising a hand, evidently intent on feeling his forehead, and he quickly took a step backwards.

"I'm fine, Yuffie. Really," he added, as she continued to look concerned. She eyed him for a moment, then shrugged, grinning.

"So where ya been, Vinnie? It's been like, forever!"

Vincent carefully turned his gaze back to her, making sure to keep his eyes on her face.

"...It's only been a week, Yuffie," he reminded, then immediately whished he hadn't as his last day with Yuffie replayed in his head.

Something he couldn't place flickered across her face, gone in an instant to be replaced with an even larger grin than before.

"A week's a long time, Vince! Maybe not for you, Mr. I'm-Possessed-By-Immortal-Demons, but it is for the rest of us! Whatcha been up to?"

He fidgeted at her nickname, unable to understand how she could mention his demons so casually (despite the fact she'd done it hundreds of times by now). It took him a moment to register her question.

_Well, I've been locked aboard the _Shera_ with Cloud watching sappy romance movies as Cid is convinced that I need to ask you out on a date._

"Helping Cid eradicate some monster infestations."

Yuffie's eyes went wide, then she slouched into a pout.

"And you didn't invite me? You know I could've handled all of the monsters by myself, just like this – " She punched the air several times, throwing in some kicks for good measure. Vincent suppressed a grin.

"Hey, wait a sec," Yuffie said, pausing mid-kick, looking at him. "What were ya doin' in my room, Vince?"

Vincent stared at her, fighting to keep his eyes on her face.

'_Whew, look at that those legs! Damn, Valentine, she might be scrawny but –'_

He quickly shut Chaos out, before he realized that Yuffie was staring at him curiously. He blinked at her.

"...Sorry, what?"

Yuffie laughed. "Talkin' to your demons again, Vince?" He felt surprised, wondering how she knew, and it must have shown on his face for she continued. "Your eyes go kinda unfocused, and you get this wrinkle between your eyebrows..." she trailed off, suddenly looking awkward and embarrassed. "Anyways, so whatcha doin' up here?"

"I was going to return to you some of your weapons, but I seem to have forgotten them on the airship," he lied quickly.

"Eh, you can keep 'em, I got plenty. Thanks though!" She grinned cheekily up at him. A suddenly loud burst of laughter came from downstairs, and Yuffie's head swivelled at the noise.

"REEVE!" she shrieked, and Vincent winced again, watching as Yuffie quickly sped from the room, and, from the sounds of things, proceeded to fall down the stairs. He took the moment of solitude to compose himself, and shove all his dirty thoughts to the back of his mind, before stepping serenely out of the room and back down the stairs.

He was greeted by the sight of Yuffie grabbing Reeve in one of her violent, rib-crushing hugs. His face instantly became stony, and he suddenly remembered all of his dislikes for Reeve and all the reasons why he deserved a slow and painful death.

Someone coughed, and his eyes flickered to Cloud, who was watching him with eyebrows raised. He immediately schooled his expression, making it blank, and approached the bar, sitting far away from Yuffie and Reeve, who were currently engaged in a thumb-war.

"Something to drink, Vincent?" Tifa asked, smiling at him. He nodded, gesturing at the pitcher of ice water, but really longing for a whiskey on the rocks. As she turned away, he closed his eyes and pinched the bridge of his nose.

It was going to be a long month.

* * *

Cloud watched Vincent climb the stairs, grinning in satisfaction. As wise as it would be for them to work together on their little...dilemma, poking fun at Vincent and making the usually stoic man squirm was just much too fun for Cloud to resist.

He turned back to the bar, momentarily forgetting his own troubles. He was abruptly reminded of them, however, as his eyes fell on Tifa's smiling face.

His mouth went instantly dry and his throat felt constricted. Fortunately, Tifa had just placed a cold beer down in front of him, so he reached for this and hurriedly chugged it back. He drank too much too quickly, though, and he began to choke, his eyes watering from the combined burn of alcohol and the fact that he couldn't breathe. Coughing, he clutched the counter with his free hand until he no longer had lager in his lungs.

"Somebody's thirsty," Tifa commented, her tone light with hidden laughter. He grinned weakly, feeling himself flush with embarrassment. Thankfully, Tifa was distracted as a loud thump sounded from upstairs and a high-pitched "VINNIE!" echoed down the stairway. He made use of this to take a deep breath in an attempt to calm himself. _Stop making an idiot of yourself, Strife. It's just a date. With Tifa. No pressure._

_...Yeah, right._ He gave a small sigh as he brought the beer to his lips once more.

"Sounds like Yuffie's excited. I bet she's tearing off Vincent's clothes as we speak," Reeve commented casually.

Cloud, who had thought it finally safe to swallow, immediately choked as he attempted to stop his brain from being overwhelmed by unwanted images. Tifa came around to pat him on the back, already scolding Reeve. Cloud assumed that this distraction was the cause for her to hit him _much, much harder than necessary._

He resisted the urge to yelp in pain, biting down on his tongue.

"All better, Cloud?" Tifa asked, a caring smile on her face.

_Ow ow ow ow ow –_

"Loads, thanks Tifa," he gasped out. Reeve was covering his mouth with his hand. Cloud had the distinct impression he was barely suppressing laughter at his expense.

"Anyways, Tifa, you can't deny it," Reeve said after coughing loudly. "I heard all about you four and your half-naked escapades the last couple weeks. Have you seen Yuffie's background on her work computer? I did, and I assure you I don't ever want to see it again."

"Oh, grow up Reeve. It's not like you haven't seen a man's chest before," Tifa responded, looking rather annoyed and for some reason flushing slightly.

"Just because Reno walks around with his shirt hanging open all the time doesn't mean I enjoy it. Mind you," he continued, turning to face Cloud and smiling widely, giving Cloud the impression the man facing him had just turned into a shark. "Better that then looking at a crossdresser."

"I had to save Tifa!" Cloud immediately objected, feeling himself turn bright red almost instantaneously. "I had no choice, alright?"

"Oh Cloud, that tiara just goes _so_ well with your hair!" Reeve said, clasping his hands and raising the pitch of his voice, completely heedless of Cloud's objections. "Could I borrow it? Pretty please?"

Cloud glared at him.

"Fuck y – "

"Language, Cloud Strife!" Tifa immediately shouted, placing her hands on her hips and glaring at him.

"But the kids aren't even home – "

"I don't care! You'll just get into the habit. No foul language!"

Tifa's tone allowed for no argument. Cloud sulked, settling for giving Reeve the finger under the counter so Tifa couldn't see. Reeve just laughed silently, looking completely unperturbed.

"And I'll have you know, Reeve, that Cloud made a very pretty woman," said Tifa, in what Cloud supposed was some misguided attempt at making him feel better.

Reeve burst out laughing. Cloud could almost feel his precious masculinity shucking off in layers. Yuffie chose that moment to provide a thankful distraction and come falling down the stairs, before bouncing back to her feet and all but flying at Reeve to crush his ribcage.

Cloud had once experienced a Yuffie hug. He had no wish to ever do so again - the bruises were still there.

Still pouting over Tifa's comment, he watched as Vincent came calmly down the stairs, his eyes quickly turning to where the ninja was hugging Reeve. His face went from blank and composed to promising death so quickly that Cloud actually blinked. His eyebrows rose in amusement. _Oh sure, Vincent, you dont care for Yuffie at all._ He coughed pointedly, and Vincent's eyes flickered to him. Cloud swallowed as that death-gaze-of-death settled on him for a moment, before Vincent thankfully schooled his expression and made his face perfectly plain. He sat down calmly enough next to Cloud, but the swordsman could sense the stress radiating from him.

He watched for a moment as Reeve and Yuffie started a thumb-war, laughing all the while. He glanced back to Vincent, who was staring at his glass of water as if nothing else fascinated him more.

"I win!" shouted Reeve a moment later, drawing Cloud's attention back to him.

"No fair! Your thumbs are longer than mine!" Yuffie pouted. "I want a rematch! And you have to shorten your thumb!" She crossed her arms over her chest, with a face that reminded him of Marlene when she didn't get her favourite kind of ice cream. He could not understand how Vincent could find her at all worthy of love.

_Alright, that was a bit unfair. But...look at her! She's...she's Yuffie, for crying out loud! And he's Vincent. She's like the matter to his...his..._

"What's the opposite of matter?" he asked without thinking, then regretted it when everyone looked at him oddly.

"Antimatter?" Reeve suggested, staring at Cloud.

"Ah, right, thanks." _The matter to his antimatter!_

"Are you feeling alright, Cloud?" Tifa asked, drawing him out of his nostalgic trip back to high school.

"Maybe he's PMSing," snickered Reeve. Yuffie instantly slapped him in the side of the head.

"Hey, don't make PMS jokes! Those are for woman only! And Cloud, since he dressed up like one! He looked hot in that dress too, I'll have you know – "

Oh no. No no no no he was _not_ just called an attractive woman for the second time in as many minutes.

Judging by Reeves almost hysterical laughter, however, he most certainly had been. Tifa was bravely attempting not to join in the giggling, but he watched her as she sunk down below the counter out of sight, and heard a loud snort erupt a moment later.

He dared to glance at Vincent. He wished he hadn't. The gunman, though not even cracking so much as a smile that Cloud could see (he wished he had a cloak he could hide his face behind – but maybe in blue, that would match his eyes better) had a look in his eyes that assured Cloud beyond all doubt he was mocking him on the inside.

He turned his eyes back to Yuffie. This was all her fault. He tried, for the sake of his ego, to be mad at Tifa as well, but her laughter drifting up from behind the bar stopped that effort in its tracks. So he settled with hating Yuffie.

"You like hot women, don't you Yuffie?"

Yuffie opened her mouth to retort, but Reeve interrupted her.

"Cloud, remember her computer background? You do know what I was talking about don't y – "

The rest of this was stifled as Yuffie slapped a hand over Reeve's mouth and started hissing something in his ear. While Cloud couldn't pick up all her words, he did pick up the occasional 'death', 'bodily harm', and 'Conformer'.

Cloud grinned widely, realizing that this was a perfect opportunity to humiliate not only Yuffie but the silently mocking gunman seated behind him.

"Yuffie, I don't think Vincent's heard about your background. Why don't you tell him?"

Yuffie froze for several moments, eyes wide as she slowly turned to regard Cloud. Tifa, who had finally emerged from behind the counter, was watching with wide eyes. Reeve was still laughing into Yuffie's hand.

Cloud smiled at her. _Take _that_, Yuffie. No one insults my masculinity! ...Except maybe Tifa, but that's not the point._

Yuffie's eyes narrowed, and Cloud's smile slipped off his face. The look on the ninja's face did not promise anything good. It seemed to promise something more along the lines of a kamikaze.

"You're right, Cloud," Yuffie started, smiling sweetly at him. "I guess I should tell him, I mean, you could tell him too since we both have the same background, but if you want me to do the honours..."

_She wouldn't._

Of course she would.

"We both have that lovely picture I took of you shirtless for a background, Vinnie. Remember?"

Reeve was staring at Cloud with wide eyes. He didn't dare look at Tifa. Behind him, he heard Vincent shift slightly with a creak of leather.

"...I remember, Yuffie. But Cloud..." came Vincent's quiet, low voice that carried nonetheless.

"If you wanted a picture of me half-naked, you need only have asked."

Cloud's poor, bruised, masculinity had just been driven over. Twice. Then shat upon by birds.

Reeve, no longer able to take it, had fallen off his chair from laughing so hard. Yuffie was staring at Vincent with a mingled look of shock, glee, and something else Cloud couldn't identify. Tifa no longer even bothered hiding behind the bar, instead laughing openly.

Cloud, his face emitting enough heat to power all of Edge, decided the time was ripe for retreat. Striding quickly up the stairs he headed for his room, hearing Yuffie finally burst into laughter as he went. Tifa was calling his name, but he continued to trudge down the hall until he reached the sanctity of his room, slamming the door behind him. He fell face-first onto his bed, wishing he could melt into the mattress and never be seen again.

_Why, why in front of Tifa? God, she'll never look at me without laughing._

A gentle knock sounded on his door.

"Cloud?"

_Must...melt...faster...Can't...face...Tifa..._

He heard the door softly swing open as Tifa padded into the room, quietly closing the door behind her. His mattress sagged as she sat down next to him. He kept his face buried into his pillows, partly because he didn't think his ego could take any more beatings and partly because _she was sitting on his bed and – _

He quickly put a clamp on his dirty imagination.

"Cloud, you know it was just in good fun, right?" came Tifa's voice, soft and gentle, full of understanding.

Understanding? Understanding what? What if she thought he was gay? _Quick, explain to her that Yuffie's a dirty little liar!_

Sitting up quickly, he opened his mouth to furiously deny everything that had been said about him in the past fifteen minutes, when he felt something pop in his jaw rather painfully.

"Owwww!" he said, the sound coming out rather awkwardly as he clutched at his face. He couldn't close his mouth – his jaw had locked in place.

_And it really, really hurt._

"Cloud! Are you alright?" Tifa asked, grabbing at his shoulders.

"I fink my 'aw 'ocked," he gasped out. He felt his eyes watering, and blinked rapidly – _he would NOT cry, dammit, not in front of Tifa._

"Here, let me see," she said, not-so-gently prying his fingers away from his face. He started to protest, determined to fix it himself, but was robbed of all intelligible (_or, more appropriately, unintelligible) _speech when her fingers brushed his face.

He stared at her, but she was concentrating on his jaw, her fingers lightly feeling the joint. Her forehead was wrinkled slightly, her lips tugging down in a frown, and she was so damn beautiful -

"This is going to hurt a bit, okay Cloud?" she said, finally raising her eyes to meet his.

He couldn't even respond. Her eyes went slightly darker as they stared at each other, and his eyes flickered unconsciously to her lips. If he just leaned a little bit closer...

_Pop._

"OW!" he yelled, reeling backwards and clutching at his jaw, which was thankfully properly aligned once more.

"I'm sorry, Cloud, but it's better to do it quickly. Are you alright now?"

He wiggled his jaw experimentally, feeling cautious of opening it too widely. It seemed fine.

But it still hurt.

He looked at Tifa, who was flushed and had increased the distance between them. Swallowing as he remembered how close she'd been, he nodded.

"Yeah, I'm alright. Thanks, Tifa."

She nodded, looking awkward. He remembered why his jaw had locked in the first place.

"And I'm not gay!" It came out sounding rather more petulant than he would have liked.

Tifa giggled. "I know. It was all in good fun. Will you come back out? I'll make sure Yuffie doesn't make any more comments about the dress."

He raised an eyebrow. "What about you? You made a comment about the dress too," he pointed out.

She looked at him thoughtfully, her face becoming serious.

"I'll always remember you in that dress, Cloud. Because you saved me, without a second thought to your ego. You kept your promise, no matter how humiliating it must have been for you."

He stared at her. She was bright red now, and after a moment of silence spun towards the door and hurriedly yanked it open.

"I should go back out there, we might get an early customer and Yuffie can't serve drinks to save her life..."

Her voice trailed off as she was already speeding down the hallway. Cloud stared after her.

"...You're welcome," he said into the silence she left behind.

He needed to ask her out. And soon. Because she was too beautiful and smart and funny and sweet for her own good.

He'd worn a _dress_ for her, dammit. How much harder could it be to ask her on a date?

...And what was he _thinking_ when he considered kissing her with a locked jaw?

Filled with a newfound sense of determination, he strode from the room.

* * *

A/N: I originally wrote it so that Cloud locked his back, but wasn't sure if that wasn't actually physically possible without paralyizing one self (plus, I think only joints can really lock), so I just changed it to the jaw. For anyone who has been fortunate not to have their jaw lock before...it really, really hurts. And you can barely talk, too. On a side note, I absolutely hated particle physics. And I realize that it's probably not something you'd really cover in grade nine physics, but, oh well.

Hope you enjoyed! I found this chapter a bit awkward when I was writing it, but I think it ended up alright. I know I certainly enjoyed torturing Cloud. And Vincent will get his due as well. Oh yes.


	3. Chapter 3: Gelato, Poutine, and Potter

**Chapter 3: Gelato, Poutine, and Harry Potter**

Vincent was hiding.

He would never admit that to anyone, of course – hence the random novel in his hand that he had opened to a random page just in case someone barged in and demanded to know what he was doing. But in the relative privacy of his own mind, he grudgingly admitted to the fact that he was, indeed, hiding. From a girl. Woman. Yuffie.

His demons were having an absolute field day with that fact of course, and hardly a minute went by without some snide comment, usually in relation to the size of his genitals. But he would rather listen to them than deal with the onslaught of emotions that seemed to attack him with a vicious glee whenever she was around, or even if she was mentioned.

Take three days ago, for example. First he got all rankled and defensive whenever Cid so much as pronounced her name oddly. Then he couldn't keep his eyes off of her newly-showered self and his mind kept trying to magically gift him with x-ray vision. And then he had nearly shot Reeve – he still wanted to, as a matter of fact – for having a thumb war with her. It had taken all his self-restraint to act normal, and any decent Turk wouldn't have believed he was A-ok for a moment. Cloud's constant looks and coughs hadn't helped either.

So now he was hiding in his room (something he was very skilled at), and he was determined to remain there until he sorted out just what exactly he was feeling for one Yuffie Kisaragi (an area in which his skills were significantly less).

Because it was not...not...over-friendly affection. Not at all.

He couldn't deny he found her attractive, and would call any man crazy if they disagreed with him. But he could easily pass that off to the humanity he had left, his natural reactions as a male, and the fact that it was Behemoth mating season and Galian was getting very restless from all the pheromones in the air. Physical attraction by no means meant he was at all emotionally attached.

And his reaction to Cid's teasing and Reeve's...proximity could be put down to friendship. He felt an urge to protect her, which was perfectly natural considering their _friendship_.

Deep in his gut, however, that explanation was weak and didn't satisfy, and was the same stale argument he'd made over and over again the last few days. Sighing, he glanced down at the novel he was holding, automatically reading a few words.

_You just don't like seeing her kissing Dean because she's Ron's sister..._

_But unbidden into his mind came an image of that same deserted corridor with himself kissing Ginny instead...the monster in his chest purred..._

"Oh, you have got to be kidding me," he hissed. '_Stop purring, Galian, you idiot furball.'_

Galian gave a low, rumbling, laugh.

He snapped the book shut, glancing contemptuously at its cover. _Harry Potter and the Half Blood Prince._ He scowled at it before tossing it away. It landed on the bed with a faint thump, and fell open. He rather imagined it was the exact same page he had just read, mocking him.

'_Valentine,' _Chaos said. '_Come in here and have a chat_.'

He ignored the demon, but a sharp pain in his skull made him wince and focus on the infuriating entity.

'_What do you want, Chaos?'_

'_We need to talk. Properly. Get in here.'_

Vincent felt a tug at his consciousness, and the next thing he knew he was surrounded by the minds of his demons. Having full conversations with them was rather like floating underwater and looking up; he was still aware of the outside world but his senses were dulled and muffled by the weight of the other four consciences pushing down on him. If he wanted to, he could forcefully regain full awareness and control of his mind, but then the demons became unruly and sulked, causing hours of migraines.

"What?" he growled at the surrounding forms. Inside his mind, the demons had the interesting power to take on whatever form they pleased. They often didn't bother using that power, but sometimes they claimed it made for good dramatic effect.

Right now they all appeared as Yuffie. Extremely skimpily dressed Yuffies.

Vincent scowled at them. "I have no time for these games. If you don't have something important to say, I'll leave."

"Relax, Valentino," said Hellmasker-Yuffie. Although they appeared the same, their voices remained as they normally were. This Yuffie also happened to be holding a chainsaw, which rather gave it away.

The butchering of his last name did not improve Vincent's mood.

"Don't bother me again," he said, preparing to leave.

"Shut up and sit down."

Vincent was not a man who was easily intimidated. But when Gigas spoke – a very rare event – anyone in the nearby vicinity, whether demon or mortal, couldn't help but pause for a moment and rethink his current line of action. Vincent remembered just how big a headache Gigas could cause when he was annoyed. He stayed where he was, with a glare at Gigas-Yuffie that would hopefully vaporize him on the spot.

No such luck, of course. They were demons and had suffered far worse than angry-Vincent glares.

"Now that we have your attention," said Chaos silkily, "We would like to share some things with you."

"I can't wait for excitement," Vincent growled.

"And there's the sarcasm!" Chaos yelled, contorting Yuffie's face into a wild grin. "Do you know why you're so pissy all the time?"

Vincent said nothing. He wasn't _pissy._

"Because you haven't gotten laid in, oh, thirty-three years!"

Galian let out a bark of laughter, which sounded exceedingly odd coming from Yuffie's small body. Vincent stared at Chaos, feeling nonplussed.

..._Am I about to have 'The Talk' with a demon?_

"Surely you've realized by now that we feed off your emotions," Chaos continued, pacing back and forth. Vincent had, of course, realized this some time ago. They were incredibly sensitive to any strong emotion he was feeling, whether it be fear, rage, despair, or even the rush that came with adrenaline. He kept a clamp on all his emotions whenever possible. In battle, however, that became more difficult, and the demons would more often than nought be nigh uncontrollable.

Chaos took his silence as an affirmation. "And Vincent, old buddy old pal, frankly, you're one of the most boring hosts _ever_."

He stared at Chaos, feeling much more insulted by this than he probably should.

"Don't get us wrong, Valentine," Galian butted in. "Your despair and self-loathing and rage were absolutely delicious for a while. But we need some variety in our diet! The Demons Healthy Eating Guide and all that, ya know?"

Vincent blinked at Yuffie-Galian, wondering if he had heard right.

"We need happiness, Valentino," said Hellmasker. "And since you're the host, it's up to you to provide it."

Vincent carefully digested this information, attempting to keep it from _completely fucking with his mind_. His demons wanted _happiness_.

"Now you've gotten better in the last two years or so, I'll give you that much," Chaos said. "You've actually started experiencing contentment now and then. But while contentment is nice, actual honest happiness is the icing on the cake. And some actual _love_, mmmm now that would be scrumptious!"

"But...you've always encouraged my rage, or fear, or guilt," Vincent said, struggling to understand all this.

"Ya, they're our meat n' potatoes, as it is. Easy emotions to manipulate. But it's grown rather bland after thirty-two years," Chaos explained. "And now's the perfect time to expand your emotional palette."

Vincent frowned. "I find the idea of you feeding off my happiness rather repulsive, to be quite honest." He had a suddenly vivid imagining of him kissing Yuffie with the demons cheering in the background. He swallowed, blinking rapidly to rid himself of that _totally inappropriate image_.

He blamed that rubbish book from earlier, planting nausea-inducing scenes in his head.

"Relaaaaax, already! Happiness actually fills us up, rather than making us crave more like fear or rage does. Which means we'll be chilling so deep inside your subconscious you'll actually have to actively seek us out to talk to us." Hellmasker revved his chainsaw, smiling lovingly at it. "It's not like we'll be making out with your girl whenever you are – we'll just feel so happy we won't even give a shit what you're doing to make us feel that way."

"So I take it you agree with Cid, then? That I am more than friends with Yuffie?" Vincent asked.

"No, we agree with Cid and we think you _want_ to be more than friends with Yuffie. Or we're you not just imagining snogging her?" Chaos asked, waggling his Yuffie-eyebrows suggestively.

Vincent scowled. "Stay out of my thoughts, demon."

Chaos shrugged. "It's a lot harder to do so when we're all squished together in here. Sorry. But I notice you didn't deny it. And I'll have you know _Harry Potter_ is so far from rubbish its mere presence destroys garbage dumps from several miles away."

He said nothing, just crossing his arms defensively over his chest.

"There, there, Valentine. We'll be motivating you every step of the way," Galian said, smiling wolfishly.

Vincent's eyes narrowed. "Motivate _how,_ exactly?"

"Headaches. Or if you're being _really_ difficult loss of bowel control in a public – "

"I get it, I get it," Vincent interuppted hastily.

"Excellent!" Chaos yelled. "Well in that case I suggest you stop hiding and go down there and get yourself a girlfriend, my good host."

"Just don't push me," Vincent snarled, already pulling himself back towards the surface of his mind.

"Only a few motivational kicks in the ass, we promise," Chaos' voice came back, dim and echoing oddly.

Vincent blinked and the real world surrounded him with a suddenly bright vivacity and a split-second roar of noise before receding back to normal.

Concentrating so that he could keep his thoughts to himself, he pondered this new development. He had no intention of 'getting himself a girlfriend', especially with Yuffie. But his demons could be quite the literal pain when they wanted to. He remembered Galian's threat regarding his bowels and winced.

He stood up and actually began to pace. He had to somehow satisfy his demons (_and what kind of demon wanted happiness for Gaia's sake?)_ or things would become very problematic, but he couldn't find love and happiness and all that nonsense with Yuffie.

_...Could he?_

The thought drifted faintly through the back of his mind. Scowling he shook his head, as if the thought would go flying out his left ear and never come back if he shook hard enough. He would just have to find another way to be happy so the demons were satisfied.

"Vincent?"

Starting, he looked up at the door to see a smiling Tifa.

"Sorry, did I startle you?" she asked, looking rather unsure of herself.

He didn't blame her. He was never startled by anything, after all.

_Unless he was so distracted by thoughts of _happiness_ and _girlfriends_ that he completely forgot there was an outside world full of constant threats._

"No," he said flatly. "What can I do for you, Tifa?"

"I'm sending Yuffie down to the market to pick up some stuff."

_Oh no._

"Would you mind going with her? She can't seem to stop herself from stealing things unless she has direct supervision and it's a pain to have to return them."

He opened his mouth to politely decline and make up some excuse, when he felt a very gentle prod that promised hours of pain in the back of his mind.

"I suppose I can," he said, hoping his voice didn't sound too sulky.

Tifa beamed. "Great, thanks so much Vincent! Just come on down when you're ready to go." She departed, and Vincent allowed himself a barely audible sigh. Never one for procrastination, however tempting it may be, he rose from his seat and headed downstairs. He was greeted by Yuffie's whining voice.

"But _Teeeef_, I don't need a babysitter! I think I'm old enough to go to the market by myself, thank you very much!"

"Yuffie, the last time you went by yourself I ended up spending _three hours_ apologizing to the materia vendor." Vincent entered the bar room to see a sulking Yuffie and Tifa standing with her hands on her waist, looking decidedly unsympathetic to Yuffie's pleas.

"Besides," Tifa continued, "Don't act like you won't enjoy the opportunity to have some alone time with – Oh hi Vincent! All ready to go?"

Vincent stared at the barmaid, who had a very strange and un-Tifa like smile on her face. Glancing at Yuffie, he was confused to see her glaring at the barmaid, her cheeks a bright red. He nodded once at Tifa in response to her question, wondering what had just transpired between the two, but quickly decided he'd more than likely not want to know.

"See you guys later, then!" Tifa said, her tone too cheerful, and she quickly turned and disappeared into the kitchen. Yuffie muttered something under her breath that even Vincent's sharp hearing couldn't catch, before stomping towards the front door.

"C'mon then, babysitter, off we go," she all but snarled at him over her shoulder. Vincent said nothing, trailing after her, confident that Yuffie's bad mood would not last long.

Sure enough, her sullen silence instantly evaporated a few minutes later when she caught sight of a sign in a café window.

"Oooh, Vinnie, look! Gelato!" she exclaimed, grabbing his hand and tugging him enthusiastically towards the café entrance. He followed, not even bothering at an attempt of resistance, having learned long ago that Yuffie would not be denied Gelato unless he actually shot her with rubber bullets, something he thought unwise to do in a public place.

A small chime signalled their entrance into the café. Yuffie immediately let go of his hand – he steadfastly ignored how cold the appendage seemed to feel - and bounded over to the counter, her eyes wide with delight as she took in the various flavours that could be hers for only a few gil. He followed, glancing once at the ice cream before looking away again, subconsciously studying the patrons and sizing them up with a mere look and mapping out the various possible exit points.

"Vince, what flavour do you want?"

Blinking, he turned to regard her. She looked pointedly at the dozen ice cream pails out on display, grinning at him.

"I do not want any, Yuffie," he said, and her face fell. He felt an immediate stab of guilt, quickly followed by a large amount of annoyance at the fact he felt any guilt at all.

"Aw, c'mon, Vinnie. I'm buying! How often do you hear that, huh?"

The look of hope on her face and the stubbornly lingering sense of guilt made his mind for him. "Vanilla," he muttered.

Yuffie absolutely beamed. "One vanilla coming up, Mr. Vinsters! Oi, shopkeep!" she yelled, jumping up and down to get the owner's attention. Vincent repressed a sigh at her antics. He turned away from her, glancing back towards the café entrance.

And then all hell broke loose.

* * *

Cloud was feeling enormously proud of himself.

He felt like strutting, like puffing out his chest and winking at passing ladies. He was on top of the world, and the view was spectacular.

He had figured out how to beat Cid's plan.

And _hot damn_ was he going to rub it in Vincent's face when the gunman got back.

Whistling, he rubbed the last bit of wax off of Fenrir. He had spent most of the last three days in the garage behind the bar, giving Fenrir a full work-over. It had provided him with plenty of thinking time on just how to ask Tifa out on a date without making an idiot of himself.

Cloud had no wish for Cid to go and spill the beans on how he had spooned Tifa, which meant he had to figure out something. And he wanted to ask Tifa out and all, but – despite the surge of determination he'd experienced the first night – it was really hard to actually _say it_.

He grimaced as he remembered his failed attempt that first night, his puffed-up ego temporarily deflating.

_Filled with a new sense of determination, he strode from the room and back down the stairs to the bar._

_He would ask her, right now, damn it all –_

"_Hey, Tifa – " he started, then stopped as Yuffie, Reeve, and Vincent all turned to stare at him, along with the object of his intended affection._

"_Yes, Cloud?" Tifa asked when he didn't continue._

"_Erm..." he said, his newfound determination showing its true colours and fleeing as if thirty Tonberries were chasing after it. He opened his mouth but couldn't think of anything to say. The stares weren't helping, and Cloud was sure that under that cloak of his Vincent had an irritating smirk pointed in his direction._

"_...How are you?" he blurted, then wished he was flexible enough to kick himself in the face._

"_Um," Tifa said, looking at him oddly. "I'm good, Cloud. Are you...okay?"_

_Which actually meant, 'do you need a one-way ticket to the nearest asylum?' but Tifa was far too polite to say such a thing._

"_I'm great, yeah...I'm gonna go...work on Fenrir I'll see you guys later bye!"_

And he had made his escape to the garage, where he had been spending much of his time since.

So he had made an absolute idiot of himself. He would make up for it. It was so easy, why didn't he think of it before?

Grinning, he wiped his hands off on a clean rag and trudged into the kitchen that lay behind the actual bar. He washed his hands, and took a moment to look at his reflection in a particularly shiny pot, adjusting his hair carefully, making sure the spikes were sticking up in just the right way. Baring his teeth in the mirror, he was satisfied at their whiteness, and straightening his shoulders he strode into the bar proper.

A single customer, late for the lunch rush and early for the supper rush, sat in one corner of the bar, munching slowly at an almost finished BLT. Cloud's eyes drifted to Tifa, who was humming softly with her back to him as she did up the dishes.

Trying to hide his self-satisfied grin, Cloud slowly sauntered towards her.

"Hey, Tifa, wanna grab some lunch?" he asked, sounding reasonably calm considering _he had just won the bet and Cid could take his Gospel and stuff it where the sun don't shine and Vincent was a loser. Nyah._

_After all, just because Tifa didn't know it was a date didn't mean he hadn't just asked her on one._ Cloud could no longer hold back a smirk. It was so simple! So genius!

_I deserve a medal! _

"Cloud? You there?"

He blinked, pulling himself out of a fantasy where Tifa pinned a gleaming, golden badge to his shirt.

_Note to self: do not ignore your date._

"Yeah, sorry, just zoned out for a minute," he said, smiling apologetically at her. She grinned back, and his stomach immediately felt very strange.

_It's full of butterflies, isn't that the saying?_ He frowned. Butterflies didn't sound very masculine.

_It's full of dragonflies?_

No, scratch that.

_It's full of dragons!_

"Cloud?"

"Hm?" He refocused on Tifa once more, who was eyeing him with a concerned expression.

"You said you wanted to get some lunch...?" she reminded tentatively.

"Yes!" he exclaimed. _Note to self: pay attention to note-to-selfs._ "Lunch! Right now!"

Tifa was frowning at him now, her hands on her hips in a look Cloud had long ago dubbed The Mother. He was actually rather frightened of it.

"What's wrong, Cloud?"

"Nothing!" he hastily denied. "I was just distracted, by, um..."

_Think think think – _

"By what?"

_By how beautiful you are._

"By my back."

_Wait, what?_

"...what?" Tifa was staring at him as if he'd grown a second head.

"It's really itchy, and it's at the one spot I can't scratch." When she continued to stare at him, he added a helpful, "Ya know what I mean?"

"Er – "

"Just gimme a sec – " he placed his back against the kitchen door and rubbed it up and down, wondering if he looked as stupid as he felt.

"There, much better. So...lunch?"

"...Sure. Where did you want to go?"

He opened his mouth, then closed it again. He hadn't actually thought that far ahead.

"Up to you."

He waited while Tifa thought for a moment.

"How about that Gongagan place up the street that just opened?"

Cloud smiled. "Sounds good to me."

/\/\/\

The walk to the restaurant passed in a comfortable silence, and they were soon sitting down and staring at the menus.

Cloud examined it somewhat carelessly, distracted by the sight of Tifa chewing lightly on her lower lip as she decided what to get. He wondered if she had any idea how much she affected him with every little thing she did.

Smiling, he made himself focus on the menu again, not wanting to look like an idiot when the waiter came up and he wasn't ready to order.

Scanning the menu, he stopped, the smile falling from his face.

_Poutine – 12 gil._

His stomach twisted.

'_Wait until you taste some real Gongagan cuisine, my friend. Crepes, ratatouille, confit du canard, and my personal favourite, poutine.'_

_Cloud snickered slightly. 'Poo-teen? What's that?'_

_The black-haired man next to him put on the most exaggerated face of longing Cloud had ever seen, making Cloud laugh._

'_Mon ami, it is the perfection of all that is good in this world. It is a taste of heaven.'_

'_What's it made of, you windbag!' Cloud interjected, eager to know now._

_Zack smiled, dropping the funny face. 'It's actually a junk food, but it's just _soooo_ tasty. It's fries covered in gravy and melted cheese. Until you've tasted it, you have not lived.' He slung an arm over Cloud's shoulder. 'Once we finish this mission, I'm gonna take you to Gongaga, and my parents will make it for you, homemade. I promise, you'll love it.'_

_Cloud smiled, nodding eagerly. 'Sounds good, Zack!'_

He felt faintly ill.

"Cloud?"

He stared at the menu, at that one little word. Funny how something so innocent could bring back the memories.

A touch on his arm made him start, and he stared blankly at the appendage for a moment, before following the hand that rested on his forearm up to the face of Tifa.

The look on her face made half of him want to break down and cry, and half of him want to call back his armies and raise the drawbridge.

He swallowed. _Don't withdraw again. It didn't do anyone any good last time._

Tifa remained silent, waiting for him, just like she always did. Gaia knows he didn't deserve it, but she always did.

"It's uh," he started, his voice catching, making him swallow again. "It's just that – well, it's pretty stupid, just Zack once told me he'd take me out to have homemade poutine at his parents place, and..."

He trailed off, unable to look at Tifa, feeling foolish and depressed both at the same time. He probably should continue, explain himself better, but he didn't know how to say it –

Tifa took his hand and gave it a slight squeeze.

_She understands just fine._

He looked up at her, and was met with a soft smile.

"You could order it now," she suggested quietly, holding his gaze. He blinked at her, and his eyes drifted back to the menu.

_Poutine – 12 gil._

'_I promise, you'll love it.'_

"Yeah," he said quietly, nodding his head. "Yeah, maybe I will."

_I said I'd live out both our lives. And if that means starting small and eating all the poutine in the world for you, then that's how it'll be._

He looked back up at Tifa, squeezing her hand in return.

"Thanks," he muttered. She didn't respond, instead just giving him another small smile and withdrawing her hand before looking away and back to her own menu. Cloud's eyes drifted from her to the menu and back again, a mix of emotions that he couldn't untangle sitting somewhere inside his ribcage.

The waiter came shortly after, and he ordered the poutine, while Tifa ordered salmon in some kind of wine sauce that Cloud couldn't pronounce to save his life.

"Denzel's been skipping class again," Tifa said as the waiter walked away.

Cloud frowned. "English again?"

Tifa nodded. "His teacher gave me a call a few days ago. If he keeps missing classes he's going to fail automatically."

"He's good at English, I've looked over some of his assignments for him."

Tifa gave a half-shrug, looking worried. "I know, I'm not sure why he's not going. Look, Cloud," she said, leaning forward with an earnest look on her face. "Could you talk to him? I've asked him, but you know he's more open with you."

Cloud wondered if she felt sad that Denzel didn't confide in her. If she did, she was hiding it very well.

"Sure, I'll ask him tonight." He hoped Denzel would tell him why he was skipping, or else he might have to use some 'parental discipline', something he had pretty much zero practice in. And that was being generous.

"Is Marlene doing good?"

"Is Marlene doing _well_, you mean," Tifa replied. Cloud frowned, feeling taken aback at having his grammar corrected. Tifa gave a small laugh at the look on his face. "She's doing very well, and has taken up a habit of correcting everyone's grammar, especially Barret's. I'm afraid the habit's worn off," she added dryly.

Cloud grinned. "Is she having any luck with Barret? 'Cause that's a lost cause if I've ever heard one."

"Not yet, but I think she'll wear him down purely through a battle of stubbornness. I'm sure she'll make an aristocrat of him one day."

Cloud had a sudden image of Barret in a suit and wearing a monocle, holding a cup of tea in his metal hand and asking how the weather was. He snickered to himself.

"Guess what she wants to be when she grows up," Tifa continued, ignoring his snicker.

"A vet?" Cloud asked, throwing out the first thing that came to mind.

"A Computer Electronics Engineer with another degree in History of Art."

He blinked. "Er?"

Tifa grinned. "That's what I said. I asked her if she intended on having a family."

Cloud fidgeted, feeling suddenly antsy at the f-word.

"And?"

"She said 'ew'. I asked why, and she explained – very patiently, since apparently everyone knows this – that boys have cooties, and that was that."

"Boys are pretty gross," Cloud joked.

"Oh, they're not so bad once you get used to them."

The statement was said casually, and Tifa wasn't even looking at him when she said it, but his brain instantly shot into overdrive in an attempt to classify her statement as flirting or not-flirting.

Thankfully the food arrived at that moment, distracting him – for now – from the topic of flirting. Instead, as he looked at what resembled a pile of goop, his mind went oddly blank.

He stared at the dish, and memories of Zack began to surface, feeling almost stifling.

And again a slight touch on his arm brought him back. He blinked, not looking up, knowing it was Tifa and focusing on the feeling of her fingers on his arm to keep him anchored to the present. He slowly picked up his fork, and stabbed it into the mess in front of him, spearing a couple of fries that were dripping with gravy and had enough melted cheese dangling from them to clog a town-full of arteries.

He cautiously brought the fork to his mouth, and took a bite.

And he was overwhelmed by a wonderful taste and a terrible, terrible sensation of burning.

Dropping his fork, he fanned rapidly at his mouth.

"Hot hot hot," he mumbled, trying not to spit food all over Tifa, reaching desperately for his glass of water, spilling some of it down his shirt as he hurried to put out the raging inferno that was partying in his mouth. Relief came nearly instantly, and he swallowed, exhaling afterwards.

Tifa was watching him with raised eyebrows and had a hand covering her mouth, which he concluded was hiding a sadistic smile at his expense. He glared at her. She dropped the hand, smiling innocently back.

"How is it?"

He stared at the mess that passed for a meal on his plate. He gave a small smile.

"It is a taste of heaven."

He glanced up to see Tifa watching him with an unreadable expression on her face. Then, before he even knew what was happening, she had reached over and jabbed her own fork into the poutine, blowing on it delicately before eating it.

"Yup, pretty good," she said, that innocent smile still in place.

"You – you – " Cloud stammered, looking from her to his plate and back again. "You stole my poutine!"

Tifa shrugged. "What're you gonna do about it, stutter at me?"

Cloud's jaw dropped. Tifa giggled.

"I cannot believe you just said that!"

"Sorry, it's from a book I have and it just came out."

"What book?"

"You've probably heard of it. _Harry Potter and the Half-Blood Prince_. I think Vincent borrowed it, actually."

"Huh," Cloud said, munching another mouthful of poutine thoughtfully. "Doesn't sound like a Vincent book. What's it about again?"

"A boy wizard and his two best friends who have to save to world while battling a mass-murdering psycho and raging hormones."

"Well, I'm sure Vincent can emphasize with that last part, at least," Cloud snickered under his breath.

"Pardon?"

"Nothing. And _you keep that fork away from my poutine young lady._"

They settled into an easy banter that lasted for the rest of the meal. As they headed back to the bar, it was all Cloud could do to restrain himself from rubbing his hands together in glee as he imagined rubbing his victory in Vincent's face.

_I won the bet! I won the bet! Vincent is a loooooser. And Cid can't pull one over on me, oh no he can't!_

But the bar was empty when they returned. Tifa, after calling for both Yuffie and Vincent and receiving no response, drummed her fingers against the bar counter in agitation.

"They should be back by now," she said, sounding worried.

"Relax, Tifa, they'll be fine. What's the worst that could happen?"

Tifa frowned, but didn't bring it up, instead turning on the bar TV.

Her jaw dropped.

"Cloud, _Cloud, ohmygawd_ look!"

He looked. His jaw joined Tifa's on the floor.

"No...way..." he muttered, eyes glued to the screen as what he was watching sunk in.

"Oh no, they are not going to be happy once – "

But Cloud didn't hear the rest of Tifa's statement, as he keeled over and hit the floor.

* * *

Zack sauntered over to where Aerith crouched, staring at her flowers. His face was covered in a massive grin; he had just won the bet, and it was time to collect.

"Hey, Aerith – "

She looked up at his voice. Zack's grin faltered for a moment at the expression on her face – it was strangely blank, but for a split second her eyes looked so sad it made his stomach hurt. Then the look was gone, replaced by a devilish grin and an evil twinkle in her green irises. Maybe he imagined it. He made a mental note to ask her about it later.

"I win, Zack!" Aerith called. Zack stopped in his tracks.

"I won! Not you! No way Cloud would have asked her already!"

Aerith smiled evilly.

"Cloud took Tifa out for lunch. I'd call that a date, wouldn't you?"

Zack's eyes narrowed. "Cloud and Tifa having lunch together isn't exactly rare since they _live in the same house_. Did Tifa know it was a date?"

Aerith suddenly seemed to find her shoes very fascinating.

"Of course she did!" she exclaimed, still speaking to her toes.

Zack glared at her, crossing his arms over his chest and waiting. Aerith fidgeted for a few moments.

"Alright!"

"Ahah!" Zack exclaimed in triumph.

"He didn't exactly _say_ it was a date! But of course she knew! He asked her to lunch!" Aerith protested.

"They've had lunch together plenty of times!" Zack rebutted. "How would she know that it was a date if he didn't say so?"

Aerith pouted, unable to respond. Zack almost caved at her look but managed to restrain himself.

"Which means that I am, in fact, the winner."

Aerith stopped pouting long enough to look curious.

"Did Vincent really ask Yuffie out on a date? Already?"

Now Zack was the one squirming.

"Well..."

"Ahah!" shrieked Aerith. "You are such a liar!"

"Am not!" Zack shot back. "Here, come and see the genius that is Matchmaker Zackary Fair at work," he said, holding out his hand. Aerith frowned, but her curiosity got the best of her and she took the proffered hand grudgingly.

"This better be good, Zack," Aerith threatened.

Zack grinned wolfishly. "Oh, it's good alright."

* * *

A/N: Ergh, so it's been, what, a month in a half since I updated? Sorry for taking so long, but college has lots of homework (who would have thunk it, eh?), so my fic writing (and reading) time has undergone some major restraints.

I don't own _Harry Potter and the Half-Blood Prince_ or any part of it, and all quotes are courtesy of the genius that is JK Rowling.

As for Cloud remembering Zack: this was partially inspired by chapter 69 of Horky's _Diaries of a Broken Man_. Go read it, _right now_, if you have not done so.

Anyhoo, let me know what you think!

PS: My knowledge of French cuisine is rather limited and partially based on Quebecois cuisine, which are quite different, so bear with me if I mixed the two together innappropriately.


	4. Chapter 4: Misery Loves Company

A/N: Sigh. You know you haven't updated in a long time when you have a dream where your fanfics are yelling at you (true story). Anyways, wrote this chapter five separate times, all with different events. I had fun, though, and I think it shows.

I'd also like to mention quickly that my Rude-centric oneshot, **Hero**, was nominated for Best Angst down at the Genesis Awards! Even though it's just a nomination for an internet award it still makes me feel all warm and fuzzy inside. So a thank you to everyone who's read/alerted/favourited and especially reviewed any of my fics, 'cause you guys are huge when it comes to my inspiration to write.

* * *

**Chapter 4: Misery Loves Company**

"MR. VALENTINE!"

Vincent winced at the high-pitched squeal, covering his ears. He was hiding inside an oven, trying to think properly despite the absolute chaos exploding around him.

But all he could think about was how infuriated he was at Yuffie.

She had left him. _Abandoned_ him. Tossed him out like he was smelly trash at the first sign of real danger.

_And then all hell broke loose._

_Vincent stared at the door in horror, watching a tide of monstrosities roll towards him. He knew what they were. He had seen what they could do, the devastation they could leave in their wake. He didn't know where they had come from or how they knew where he was, but it didn't matter. The only option was to flee, and to hope for some sort of miracle. Just looking at them made Vincent cringe in fear._

_Fangirls._

_Completely unstoppable once they had set their eyes on their prey, and with a communication network that rivaled the WRO's, fangirls were Vincent's worst nightmare. And now they were swarming towards him, like moths to a candle flame - except these were giant, radioactive mutant moths and non-flammable._

_The teeming horde rushed through the café door, the force of their charge causing the hinges to twist and the door to fall crooked. All their evil, ferrety eyes were fixed on Vincent as if he was nothing more than a juicy piece of steak._

"_MR. VALENTINE!"_

_The sound of their shrieks rose to a deafening crescendo as they echoed inside the small café. Vincent turned, intending to retreat for the back exit – even with all his combat prowess standing up to a single fangirl was nearly impossible, let alone an entire horde of them. He saw Yuffie already entering the kitchen, and he quickly followed._

_Ignoring the yells of the staff he burst through the kitchen doors, skidding into a rack of pots and knocking them to the floor. A flicker of movement ahead of him caught his eye as Yuffie exited out the back door, and he sprinted after her._

_Precious, precious freedom. As long as he could reach the alley he could outrun them. He ran full tilt into the door._

_And promptly slammed off of it, ending up flat on his back. Blinking, his shoulder aching from the impact, he stood and stared out the small window._

_Yuffie was grinning at him with fiendish delight, and his heart sank. He'd seen that expression far too many times, and it had never ended up being anything but trouble for him._

_He slammed into the door again. It would open a crack before becoming firmly stuck. Yuffie had obviously wedged something against it. Furious, he looked out the window again. Yuffie gave him one last grin and a cheerful wave before slowly sauntering off._

_He stared after her. He couldn't believe she would do something like this. Even for Yuffie this was just plain _mean.

_The yells of the cooks snapped him out of his shock, and he turned to see them valiantly struggling against the horde of screaming women, teens, and even a couple of men who were trying to push their way into the kitchen after him. Crouching down to get out of sight, he looked around desperately. A large oven sat to his left, the door open and with all the inner racks removed, probably having been freshly cleaned. Lunging, he threw himself at the offered sanctuary, curling up and twisting awkwardly to get his entire six feet frame inside. Digging his gauntlet into the oven door with a loud screech of metal, he pulled it closed, shutting himself inside._

And so he found himself cramped inside an oven. From the noises outside it was clear the fans had broken through the cooks' line of defense and were now searching for him. He struggled to come up with some sort of escape plan.

It didn't help his thought-process that the oven reeked of cleaning fumes, leaving him slightly dizzy. Though that could also be attributed to the fact that ovens are nothing more than miniature air-locks _and he was quickly running out of oxygen._

_Fucking genius, Valentine_, he swore at himself. _What a great place to hide in. What happened to keeping calm?_

But he couldn't help it. Yuffie's face kept appearing in his mind, wearing that infuriating grin, and the sight of it only served to further build his mounting rage. On top of that, his demons were all cackling like mad, evidently finding the entire situation highly enjoyable and not offering the slightest piece of useful information.

Furious, he awkwardly pulled out his new phone, dialing Yuffie's number.

She picked up immediately.

"Hi Vinnie!"

"What the hell do you think you're doing," he snarled into the speaker, doing his best to keep his voice as quiet as possible.

"I thought it would make good practice for your severely lacking social skills."

"Yuffie, I demand you open that door this instant - "

"What, Vince? You're breaking up! I can't hear you!" Yuffie exclaimed, making static noises before hanging up. He stared at the phone for a few seconds before carefully putting it away, swallowing the urge to tear it apart. He felt absolutely infuriated with the woman. How he had any feelings for her was beyond him.

His rage ebbed away for a moment. What was he just thinking?

Shaking his head, he closed his eyes and took several deep breaths, doing his best to banish all thought of Yuffie from his mind. Though he only partly succeeded, it was enough to let him sort out his thoughts.

_I am trapped in an oven, running out of air, inhaling toxic cleaning fumes, and surrounded by an unknown amount of enemies. The cooks may or may not aid me, or they could already be dead. The back door is no longer a viable option of escape. The front door can be assumed lost to the enemy. There are no windows large enough for me to fit through anywhere in the kitchen._

He concentrated on what he could remember from his brief flight through the kitchen. There was a central island, several fridges and freezers, a deep fryer, a grill…

An open oven. The kind used for cooking pizzas the traditional Mideelian style. And open ovens meant real cooking fires which meant a real goddamn chimney.

It was the only option left. If he recalled correctly, the chimney was almost directly across the central counter from where he sat now. He should be able to reach it in one good jump.

Feeling much better now that he had an actual plan, he squinted out the tiny glass slit of the oven window. The small kitchen was still swarming with fans. Even inside the oven he could hear their excited chatter, like nails on a chalkboard. Some of them seemed to be squabbling. He suppressed a snort. Typical carnivore behavior. Leave them alone long enough with no food, they would turn on each other.

There was nothing for it. He'd have to take his chances. They hadn't yet discovered him, so he had the element of surprise on his side. He wished he wasn't starting out in such an awkward position, but he had to go with what he had.

Taking one last deep breath, he pushed open the oven door and threw himself forward. It took him a moment to sort out his tangled limbs, but he was on his feet in under a second.

The kitchen was dead silent. All around him he could see the fangirls turn, zeroing in on him. He felt defenseless, their very presence sucking at his soul. They stared at him, mouths agape. Several were blocking the path to his precious escape route.

He wished he had brought his rubber bullets, though he knew such thinking was futile. He couldn't harm them - for reasons he couldn't fathom fans had the same rights every other person had, and he didn't feel like being arrested for assault.

Swallowing, their sudden quiet unnerving, he did the only thing he could think of.

"…Hello."

The fans directly in front of him swooned immediately. The rest of them erupted with screams once more, several of them clutching at their hearts or fanning themselves, temporarily paralyzed by his attack. Seizing his opportunity, he leapt the central island, launching himself for the oven headfirst.

It was only then that he realized that the firewood that heated the oven was still burning.

_Fuckfuckfuckfuckfuck –_

The oven entrance was slightly narrower than he had thought. His head and torso successfully made it inside, but his knees cracked against the outside sill painfully. Grunting, feelings his arms and face starting to burn in the heat, he wiggled, bringing the rest of his body inside. He felt a hand clutching at his boot, but shook it off. Bringing his feet under him, he crouched, doing his best to ignore the stinging on his arms and the smell of burnt leather. He looked up. Finally, some luck. The chimney was wide and made of crumbling brick, making for easy climbing. Allowing himself a small bit of hope, he started his ascent. The smoke funneling upwards around him made his eyes water, but he pressed on. He could see daylight, _beautiful blue daylight_, getting closer and closer –

_CLANG._

"Fuckingshitgoddamn," he hissed, releasing the wall with one hand to clutch at his aching head. Looking up, he noticed for the first time that three soot-blackened metal bars covered the exit, no doubt some anti-break-in installment. Grasping it with his hand, he shook it. The bars were solid rods, and not about to break. He glanced at the wall. The brick, on the other hand…

Completely fed up with the situation, he pulled out Cerberus, aimed it at where the metal was bolted onto the wall, and fired.

The powerful bark of Cerberus echoed in the confined space, making his ears ring painfully. It did the trick, though, blowing the wall out from under one of the rods. He ripped the bar loose, letting it drop down the chimney, half-hoping some fangirl was looking up after him and was about to get a nasty surprise.

He repeated the process twice more. As the last bar fell away, he allowed himself a grim smile of victory. His ears were ringing so much he was temporarily deaf, but it didn't lessen the relief he felt as he finally pulled himself into the clean, fangirl-free air.

Panting, he lay on the roof for a moment, before finally hauling himself to his feet. Now that the adrenaline was wearing off, he began to feel his various aches more acutely. His hands and forearms were stinging under the leather. His hair was singed, as was his cloak, and looking down at himself he noticed that his usually shining boots and gauntlet were smeared and blackened. Soot covered his clothes, and he could only imagine what his face looked like right now. His shoulder and knees were aching, plus his head hurt something fierce.

He was going to murder Yuffie.

Wishing he had some Cure materia, he jogged across the roof, looking down to the alley below. He could see a large trash container tilted across the café's door. The sight of it further reminded him of why he was in such a sorry state.

He was going to _murder_ Yuffie.

Vincent hopped down, storming down the maze of alleys that lead away from the café's back door. He had no doubt Yuffie was close by, waiting to see what had happened. When he found her he was going to…going to…

He wasn't actually going to murder her. He didn't even know what he was going to do. But Vincent was furious, and Yuffie was going to know about it.

He continued walking blindly down the deserted alleys for several minutes before he heard light footsteps behind him. He whirled. There she was.

And she was _laughing_.

Growling, he advanced towards her.

"Oh gawd, Vince, you should see yourself right now," Yuffie gasped, looking at him with tears of mirth in her eyes. Noticing the look of death on his face as he came towards her, her smile suddenly faltered.

"Heh, er, Vince, you know it was all in good fun, right?" she chuckled weakly, backing away from him. He said nothing, just glaring at her as he continued to close the space between them.

"Vinnie, c'mon, I didn't expect it to get so crazy…" Yuffie stopped as she backed into a wall. She turned to run, but he threw up an arm to stop her, blocking her path. She tried the other direction, but he put up his other arm, effectively trapping her. Swallowing, she pressed herself against the wall.

He looked down on her, nostrils flaring. Time to make his unhappiness known.

"That was not amusing in the least, Yuffie."

"I know, Vince, I'm sorry – "

"I now have several injuries."

"Well, I didn't expect you to be so desperate to escape – "

"My clothes are filthy and burnt. I was forced to use Cerberus, whose ammo is not cheap."

"You _shot_ them?"

"I demand recompense."

A silence followed. Vincent held Yuffie's gaze mercilessly, letting her know just how serious he was. She seemed to shrink under his assault.

"Erm," she said faintly, her voice hardly more than a squeak. "What kind of recompense?"

Vincent frowned. He hadn't thought that far ahead yet.

"…When I have decided on an appropriate form of repayment, I will let you know," he said. Yuffie nodded, looking faintly relieved that her fate had been put off. Her look quickly changed to one of panic, however, as he leaned very close, putting his mouth next to her ear. She let out a faint gasp, obviously distressed by his proximity. For a moment he said nothing, enjoying making her squirm. One of the very first things you learned as a Turk is that people don't like having their personal bubble encroached upon. Yuffie seemed to be no exception.

And she smelled good. He frowned. This was not the time to be distracted.

"I will have my revenge," he breathed, repressing a smile of satisfaction as she shivered. His anger temporarily sated, he began to pull back.

And realized just how very close he was to her. How very easy it would be to kiss her, then and there. He froze, so close to her face he could feel her breath against his cheek.

"Vincent…" Yuffie murmured, drawing his eyes up to hers. Their normally stormy grey had gone so dark as to be nearly black.

It would be so very easy…

A bright flash had him blinking and drawing back in alarm as his muddled mind tried to process what had happened. Glancing around dazedly, he looked down the alley to see a young boy scampering away, a camera clutched in his hand. Vincent stared after him, having the vague impression something bad just happened, but too distracted by other things to really care.

…What the hell had he been _thinking?_

He hadn't been thinking. That was the problem. His anger and thirst for revenge had completely overridden his common sense. He turned back to Yuffie, wondering if he should apologize but absolutely terrified of bringing it up.

She had already slid away from the wall, playing with her PHS rather than look at him.

"We better get goin', Vinnie, Tifa's gonna be wondering where we are by now." She finally glanced back up at him, giving him a cheerful and perfectly normal grin as if nothing had ever happened.

He nodded back at her, Turk training kicking in, smoothing over all outward display of his own inner turmoil. Yuffie cheerfully headed off down the alley, and Vincent trailed slowly after her.

* * *

Cloud could swear one of his kidney's had just burst. He had tears on his face, and his stomach was aching like mad.

He hadn't laughed so hard in a long, long time.

"_They should be back by now,"_ _Tifa said, sounding worried._

"_Relax, Tifa, they'll be fine. What's the worst that could happen?" he replied. Tifa didn't say anything, instead flicking on the TV._

"_Cloud, _Cloud, ohmygawd _look!"_

_He stared at the screen. It was a news report. At the bottom of the screen, a large, scarlet heading read 'AVALANCHE MEMBER DESTROYS CAFÉ.' There was an image of a door twisted off its hinges, surrounded by a horde of people, almost all of whom were women._

"_Barely an hour ago this usually quiet café was torn apart as Vincent Valentine, a member of AVALANCHE, attempted to escape from some particularly exuberant fans," a newsman read, sounding rather amused._

_A poor-quality handheld video played, showing a mass of women stream through the café door and Vincent sprinting for the kitchen._

"_According to several eye witnesses, Mr. Valentine attempted to escape through the back door but was unable to due to some sort of blockage. He then proceeded to tear apart the kitchen in a desperate attempt to escape, apparently threatening several staff and fans with his gun and blowing up an oven before escaping out a chimney, destroying it in the process. Several bystanders did report gunshots, supporting the claim."_

"_No…way…" Cloud muttered._

"_Some witnesses are also claiming that AVALANCHE member Yuffie Kisaragi was also on sight, but no proof of her involvement could be found. This has not stopped several rumors of a romance between the two heroes from appearing."_

"_Oh no, they are not going to be happy once – "_

_An image of Vincent appeared, his eyes opened wide in surprise and his mouth twisted into an expression of horror._

_The look was so unexpected and hilarious that Cloud fell over, overcome by mirth. His laughter only got harder as the entire situation really sunk in._

"Vincent…afraid…of fangirls…_ha…_" he gasped.

He could sense more than see the glare Tifa was shooting at him.

"It's not funny, Cloud."

"But…it _is_…"

"Did you see the store owner? He was threatening to sue Vincent for damages!"

"…his _face_…ha ha…"

"Oh that is it, Cloud Strife," Tifa hissed. "You lie there and laugh. I'm going to go call Reeve and see what we can do to help Vincent." Cloud waved weakly at her, trying to apologize but unable to find the breath to do so. Tifa seemed to interpret it as Cloud waving her merrily on her way. Her eyes narrowed dangerously.

"You wait, Cloud. One day something humiliating is going to happen to you and be all over the news, and we'll see how you like it then." She stormed away upstairs, and Cloud heard a door slam. Wheezing, he pulled himself up, collapsing onto a bar stool, and buried his head in his arms, still chuckling weakly despite Tifa's dire pronouncement.

He lifted his head up at the sound of small footsteps to see Marlene coming down the stairs.

"What's so funny, Cloud?" she asked, expertly clambering up on the bar stool next to him.

"Uncle Vincent, Marlene," he said, unable to stop himself from grinning.

She looked up at him, wide-eyed. "Did he make a funny joke? Can I hear it?"

Cloud shook his head. "We'll get him to tell you himself when he gets back, he says it best."

Marlene nodded at this, but was quickly distracted by an advertisement playing on the TV.

"Cloud, there's a new Choco Buddy! Will you buy it for me? Please?" she begged.

Cloud sighed. "Marlene, you already have five of them."

"But not a blue one!"

"I'll think about it."

"Did you tell Tifa?" Marlene asked.

He blinked, completely bewildered by the abrupt question.

"What?"

"Did you tell Tifa?" she asked again with a feigned-patient air, as if the subject of their conversation should be obvious.

"Did I tell Tifa what?"

Marlene smiled innocently at him.

"About Frelt."

Cloud's stared at her, feeling more shocked by her words than he would if he saw Barret in a tutu.

"I…uh…what are you talking about, Marlene?" he sputtered, trying to play dumb.

"About how you spooned her in Frelt and she doesn't know about it."

Cloud flushed bright red, waving at her to be quiet.

"Keep your voice down," he whispered, glancing nervously back at the stairs. "That's none of your business, Marlene. You shouldn't even know what spooning is at your age."

"Cloud," Marlene sighed, rolling her eyes. "Have you seen what's on TV nowadays?"

Cloud barely managed to keep himself from swearing profusely. All his mirth from Vincent's predicament had completely withered away.

"How do you even _know_ about this?" he hissed.

"Reeve told me," she said, smiling as she made her stool spin around in circles.

"…How does _Reeve_ know about this!" Cloud choked. "No one's supposed to know about it!"

"Cid told him."

Cloud imagined several ways of killing the chain-smoking pilot, one of which was extremely messy and involved paper clips and Lego.

"Marlene, listen to me," he said, grabbing Marlene delicately by the shoulders and putting on his best serious face. "You can't tell Tifa about this, alright? You can't tell _anyone_, but especially not Tifa."

"I want the new Choco Buddy."

Cloud stared at her for several seconds before it finally clicked.

"…Are you _blackmailing_ me?"

Marlene smiled that innocent smile of hers.

"Yes."

Cloud shook his head. "No, Marlene, _no,_ there will be no blackmailing in this household, do you understand – "

"I think it's very rude of you not to tell Tifa," Marlene interrupted sweetly.

Cloud put his face in his hands. _What. The. Fuck._ What the hell was he gonna do now?

"My Choco Buddy won't buy itself," Marlene reminded him.

He lifted his head up to stare at her incredulously. "Excuse me?"

"Time is money, right? So get a move on, mister!" Marlene exclaimed encouragingly.

Cloud glared at her. "I knew we shouldn't have let Yuffie babysit you all those times. I _knew _it. No, Marlene, I'm not going anywhere – "

"Okay! I'm just gonna go talk to Tifa then – "

Cloud held up his hands, feeling panicky. "Wait, wait, no, alright, I'll go buy you your stupid Choco Buddy, alright? Just please don't tell Tifa," he begged. Marlene cocked her head to the side, appraising him for a moment, then nodded cheerfully.

"Okay!"

Cloud nodded back. "Okay. Okay, I'm leaving right now, see?" He grabbed Fenrir's keys and backed towards the door, afraid that if he took his eyes off her Marlene would run straight to Tifa.

"I want the collector's edition one too," Marlene added, not even looking at him anymore.

Cloud gritted his teeth. "Sure, fine, whatever. Just no telling, alright?"

She nodded, her attention captured once more by the TV.

Cloud, feeling like everything he ever knew had just been turned inside-out, fled from the room.

/\/\/\

He nearly crashed eight times on the way to the toy store, he was so distracted by this latest turn of events.

Marlene was always so _innocent_. How could she blackmail him?

He was sure it was Yuffie's influence. Damn her.

"Is that everything, sir?"

He looked at the cashier, giving a small nod. The cashier looked terrified of him. He must be radiating an aura of _pissed-offness_, and evidently this guy was particularly sensitive. As he took the bag, Cloud attempted to give him a smile. It came out as more of a grimace, and the cashier's lip trembled. Mentally sighing, Cloud gave up and just walked away.

The ride home was just as dangerous and almost-accident filled as the ride there, but Cloud eventually made it back to Seventh Heaven. Parking his bike in the garage, he entered through the back. The kitchen was empty, but he could hear the slight tinkle of ice against glass in the next room. Striding into the bar proper, he stopped dead.

A very disheveled looking Vincent sat at the bar, nursing a drink. He was covered in black grime and stank of smoke. His leather bodysuit had burnt patches, and his cloak was charred, the red barely visible.

Cloud stared at him. Vincent met his gaze blankly, looking dazed.

"…Holy shit," Cloud said, raising his eyebrows, then started snickering, his own troubles temporarily forgotten.

The dazed look disappeared in a flash. "Don't start," Vincent snarled.

"Sorry," Cloud apologized, hurriedly schooling his features into something less likely to get him killed. "So what happened?"

"Yuffie happened," Vincent said, the anger in his voice obvious. He did not bother elaborating. Cloud didn't need him to. _Yuffie happened_ was code for _Yuffie screwed me up the ass with a splintered mop._

"Where is she anyways?"

"Upstairs talking to Tifa."

"...Have you seen the news?"

"Tifa mentioned it. I have yet to see it and have no wish to see it until tomorrow."

Cloud couldn't blame the poor guy for procrastinating. As casually as possible, he asked, "Have you seen Marlene around?"

"She went upstairs after I refused to tell her a joke," Vincent replied, sounding exhausted.

Cloud headed upstairs with trepidation. He padded towards Marlene's bedroom, cautiously poking his head through the door. He let out a relieved breath as he saw her happily doodling away with her crayons. Entering quietly, he held the blue Choco Buddy out before him like some sort of sacrifice.

"Here you go, Marlene."

Marlene, upon seeing the toy, let out a squeal of joy, and promptly hugged Cloud's knees.

"Thank you Cloud!" she yelled into his left kneecap, relinquishing her hold to reach up and grab the toy, hugging it to her chest.

He stared at her. He still couldn't believe she had blackmailed him. Maybe he was crazy.

"And don't worry, I won't tell Tifa."

His faith in his mental health restored, he sighed.

"Good," he said, turning to leave.

Only to see Tifa standing in the doorway.

"Tell me what?" she asked curiously. Behind her, Yuffie lounged against the wall, looking strangely distressed.

"Er," Cloud started intelligently.

"He can't tell you, Tifa, then it would ruin the surprise!" Marlene said, coming to his rescue.

Tifa smiled. Cloud's stomach did weird things it wasn't supposed to. "A surprise? For me?"

Marlene skillfully ignored the question, holding out her new Choco Buddy. "Look what Cloud got me!"

Tifa gave the appropriate gasp of awe. "Wow, isn't that the new one?"

Marlene was nodding so hard Cloud was worried her head would pop off. Tifa crouched down so the young girl could show off her new toy to her, looking up at Cloud to flash him a thankful smile as she did so. He gave a small smile back, feeling strangely guilty, despite the fact that it was him who was blackmailed.

He retreated out of the room to join Yuffie in the hallway. He was tempted to start yelling at her about being a bad influence for Marlene, but he thought that would be unwise with Tifa and Marlene right behind him. He settled with glaring pointedly at her instead as he made his way towards the stairwell. She didn't so much as look at him. He harrumphed, annoyed, trudging down the stairs with more force than necessary.

Vincent was still sitting where he was, though his glass seemed to have refilled.

Cloud sat down heavily next to him, helping himself to the bottle of whiskey that was currently keeping Vincent company. Grabbing a glass from underneath the counter, he poured himself a healthy measure.

"…the owner of the café is trying to sue me," Vincent said.

"I'm being blackmailed," Cloud replied.

Vincent raised an interrogative eyebrow.

Cloud sighed. "You don't want to know. You'll lose any remaining faith you have in the human race." He fiddled with his glass, swirling the amber liquid inside around in circles. "Reeve knows, by the way."

Vincent carefully put his glass down before responding.

"How?"

"Cid told him."

The gunman sighed. "Is it just me or does everyone have us by the balls?"

Cloud didn't even blink at the unusually crude sentence. Sadly, Vincent was right.

* * *

"I hate kids."

Aerith frowned. "Don't be a grouch. You should have seen it coming."

"The fact that Vincent was buying them ice cream should still count anyways," Zack whined.

She smiled sweetly. "But you just said so yourself, they have to know it was a date for it to count. I'll admit, you almost got them, but then _almost_ doesn't count, does it?"

Zack glared at her, but couldn't refute his own argument. He sighed. It had been so close…Maybe he could use the turn of events to his advantage?

Aerith seemed to read his mind. "Don't even think about it," she scolded. "If it goes public before they're ready there could be major consequences." Zack sighed, nodding grudgingly.

He couldn't help but wonder, though, what that kid would do with the photo.

* * *

A/N: You may have noticed by now that there seems to be a recurring theme of embarrassing photos. There is a reason behind this (sort of) that will be revealed at a much later time.

So I always imagined that AVALANCHE would become incredibly famous after saving the world eight kabillion times. And what would a famous person be without rabid, mentally unstable fans? I mean, just imagine how Vincent, King of the Unsociable, would react to screaming hordes of women (and men) demanding his autograph (and other less T-rated things).


	5. Chapter 5: Old Friends and New Choices

**Chapter 5: Old Friends and New Choices**

Yuffie sighed, feeling distinctly annoyed.

Four days.

_Four days._

In which Vincent hadn't so much as looked at her, or registered a word she said, or – or _sniffed_ her, even. In which Vincent had pretended she didn't even exist.

She sighed, dropping her head with a loud thud onto the bar.

"Will you stop sighing so much? It's irritating."

Yuffie raised her head up to scowl at Tifa.

"He's giving me the silent treatment, Teefs!" she exclaimed, waving a hand wildly. "I mean, what kind of guy even _does_ the silent treatment, it's such a woman thing to do. It's not my fault he's getting sued!"

Wiping out a glass, Tifa raised an eyebrow in her direction.

"Actually, it's completely your fault."

"I didn't make him destroy that oven, or that chimney, or start shooting at things."

"What did you expect would happen? Vincent and screaming, hormonal lunatics do not mix, Yuffie."

Yuffie fidgeted. "Well it seemed like a good idea at the time."

Tifa stared at her in disbelief. "Are you sure you weren't dropped on your head as a child?"

"Oh, all the time," Yuffie responded absently, too busy trying to remember when Vincent had been this mad at her before, hoping for some solution. Coming up blank, she let out a frustrated sigh.

"_Stop. Sighing._"

"What should I do, Boobs? This really blows!" she whined.

"Have you tried actually apologizing?"

"Yes," Yuffie replied shortly, trying desperately not to think about that...that _thing_ that had happened in the alley. Despite her best attempts, she could practically hear Vincent saying _I will have my revenge_ and feel his warm breath against her ear.

It had lead to some very interesting dreams the last few nights. Gawd, she hadn't even _known_ she was into bondage –

"I think Cloud is hiding something from me," Tifa muttered, leaning against the counter thoughtfully.

"Uh huh," Yuffie agreed absentmindedly. "I – wait, what? Why?"

"Something Marlene said a few days ago...Cloud got her a toy, and she said 'thanks, I won't tell Tifa'," Tifa explained, looking vaguely worried. "What do you think she was referring to?"

Yuffie felt a twinge of guilt for moping so much that Tifa was only sharing this with her now. "He's probably just planning on taking you out on a date or something, and needed Marlene's advice," she reassured. "Knowing Cloud, that's a good thing for you."

"You think so?" Tifa asked doubtfully. "I honestly can't imagine Cloud asking me out to go anywhere."

Yuffie scoffed. "Bull. I've bet you imagined it lots of times."

Tifa frowned at her. "You know what I mean."

"Well I can imagine it just fine," Yuffie replied, leaping up from her stool. This would require a full demonstration of her super awesome acting skills.

"His hair will be gelled into spikes so perfectly pointy they'd count as weapons of mass destruction," she started, pulling her own hair outwards. "He'll be wearing a tux and a tie – the knot on which will be all wrong, by the way – and a polished pair of combat boots. He'll come up to you and he'll strike that stupid little pose..." She walked around the bar to approach Tifa, whom Yuffie was happy to see looked amused now, rather than worried. Stopping before her, she placed her right foot behind her and put her left hand on her hip, in her best _hi I'm Cloud and I'm full of myself_ pose, wiggling her eyebrows dramatically.

"And he'll say..." she continued, dropping her voice down an octave. "Tifa, baby...

"Uhh, I was wondering, if, uhh...w-would you like to, um, would you like to m-mosey off with me for some dinner and, um, and a movie?"

Tifa laughed, shaking her head ruefully. "You know I can actually picture him doing that. Even the stuttering, sadly enough."

"Just make sure to capture it on film," Yuffie replied, heading back to her stool and plunking herself down on it. "I could use a good laugh," she added grouchily, her thoughts returning to Vincent once more now that she had succeeded in cheering up Tifa.

"Oh, stop looking so depressed. He'll get over it, he always does."

"I dunno, Teefs, I haven't seen him this pissed since...since – "

"Since you stole all our materia?" Tifa supplied dryly, smirking at Yuffie's pained glare. That was not an incident she cared to be reminded of. "Though if I recall he wasn't trying to kiss you afterwards – "

"He didn't try to kiss me!"

"You told me he almost kissed you," Tifa reminded.

"Yeah, he almost did, but not intentionally!" Yuffie explained, hating how pathetic she sounded. "I mean, this is _Vincent_, he doesn't – he doesn't _do_ kissing – or physical contact at all without a hazmat suit – "

"Yuffie," Tifa interrupted, "You don't _accidentally _almost kiss someone. I'd bet the bar that he would have done it if you guys hadn't been interrupted."

Yuffie stared morosely at the countertop. She couldn't stop thinking about the _what if_s –

_WHAP._

"OW! What the hell, Boobs?" she whined, clutching her head and glaring at the barmaid and the wet, twisted dishcloth she was holding.

"Stop looking so damn depressed! At this rate I'll be buying you a coffin of your own," Tifa scolded. "What's been with you these last four days? One little incident in a dark secluded alleyway and you're acting like somebody's died! What's the big deal?"

"I don't know!" Yuffie yelled, frustrated. "At first it was all fun and games, ya know? I mean, of _course_ I was attracted to him, but I thought it was just a crush or something, and I mean he's practically _smoking_ he's so hot, I swear you should have seen him in that shower with the _steam_ and – "

"Focus_,_ Yuffie."

"Sorry, it's just hot _damn_ – "

"_Yuffie."_

"I just...I can't stop thinking about him, Teef, it's like no matter what I'm doing it somehow reminds me of him, and it's driving me nuts!" she exclaimed, feeling incredibly desperate. "And every little thing he does seems absolutely fascinating - even when I had him standing in front of me shirtless in a hot, steamy shower, what do I do? I stare at his left hand because he's not wearing his gauntlet. Did you know he has this nervous tic, whenever he's stressed, where he flexes his gun hand? And that stupid little cape flick he does – " She broke off with a strangled laugh, dropping her head into her hands. "And then in the alley, he's _right there_, and I couldn't even think or breathe – " _he's so close and his eyes are burning with _" – and frankly it scared the _shit_ outta me how much I wanted it," she whispered. "How much I wanted _him_. _And_ to make things worse I've hardly slept at all these last few days 'cause of these stupid dreams and now I'm a goddamn wreck."

As her outburst was met with silence, Yuffie felt a strange mix of relief, embarrassment, and exhaustion. Looking up, she met Tifa's gaze, who was giving her a searching look that was far too serious for her liking.

"..._Well?"_ Yuffie prompted.

"You're..." Tifa started, before apparently changing her mind. "Sounds like things are getting serious for you."

"They're not _supposed_ to get serious. It's _supposed_ to be just a stupid little crush due to his amazing hotness," Yuffie growled. "This was _supposed_ to be for fun, but now, I..."

A little voice in the back of her head was yelling about a certain L-word. Yuffie strangled it into silence, but she couldn't help but wonder if it was right.

"Look, Yuffie," Tifa started earnestly, leaning forward. "You know Vincent better than anyone. If you're gonna continue this, you better be sure that you know what you're getting into, because if you back out – "

"His angst will create a black hole and destroy the universe," Yuffie interrupted sharply. "I know, Teef."

"I'm serious, Yuffie. You know what he was like when we found him."

"I _know,_ Tifa," she repeated loudly. She took a deep breath, looking away from her friend. "Not like it matters anyways. He isn't even in to me." Or so part of her hoped, because then she could avoid any responsibility.

"You so sure about that?" Tifa asked quietly.

Yuffie remained sulkily silent. She wasn't sure, not at all, but if he was...

She swallowed, trying to ignore the fear that had settled in her stomach. Closing her eyes, she forced herself to keep calm and _not freak out because she could break him so easily – _

_Yes, much calmer now._

She dropped her head on the counter once more.

"I hate my life."

Tifa snorted. "Oh, c'mon. It's not that bad."

"Yes it is. What the hell am I gonna do now?"

"Buy birth control?"

Yuffie lifted her head up to glare at an openly smirking Tifa.

"Oh, you are enjoying this far too much. What happened to being serious?"

"Hey, I deserve it after putting up with your constant comments about Cloud for the last, oh, _three years._"

"That's different," Yuffie sniffed. "All those remarks were made for your own good."

"Well you can consider everything I say for _your_ own good, then," Tifa replied. "I call maid of honour, by the way – "

Yuffie threw a bowl of pistachios at her. "Not amused!"

Tifa was grinning, despite having to fish several of the nuts out of her shirt. "So, dreams, huh? What kind?"

"You don't wanna know," Yuffie muttered grumpily.

"Oh, come on – "

"Let's just leave it at the fact that headbands work very well for tying more than just hair," she stated shortly.

"On second thought, you're right, I really don't want to know," Tifa said, looking vaguely disturbed.

Yuffie sighed, kneading her forehead.

"Do you think angst is contagious?"

/\/\/\

Vincent sipped slowly at his glass of water, brooding as he waited for Reeve to get his cappuccino. They were meeting to discuss Vincent's newly acquired lawsuit – or so Reeve claimed. Vincent had a vague suspicion that Reeve actually wanted to discuss the stupid, ridiculous bet and that stupid, ridiculous woman that went with it. Before he could start raging internally for the seventeenth time that day, the man in question plunked down across from him, a steaming cup at his side. He slurped at it happily; giving what Vincent thought was a much exaggerated sigh of contentment, he leaned forward to look at Vincent intently.

"Are you sure you don't want one? They really are very good."

Vincent just stared blankly at him. The first – and last – time he had tried coffee after he became the new boarding house for demons, Galian had, for lack of a better term, gone completely batshit insane. Vincent had only managed to regain control over the wayward demon after several hours of running in circles chasing his own tail and breaking things, and had ended up with a migraine that lasted a full week. He had no wish to repeat the experience, and now avoided caffeine like it was the plague.

Reeve shrugged at his lack of response, looking supremely unconcerned and surprisingly well rested for someone who ran the WRO. Vincent's eyes flickered to the cappuccino, wondering if there was more than just caffeine inside.

"So how're things?" Reeve asked, smiling slightly.

Vincent levelled him a look. "Take a guess," he deadpanned.

Reeve laughed quietly. "Rainbows and sunshine as always, Vincent. Things could be a lot worse, you know."

Vincent raised one eyebrow in speculation. "I rather doubt that."

"You could be in jail," Reeve pointed out.

"Which would be wonderfully fangirl free," Vincent countered_. And Yuffie free_, he thought, scowling.

Reeve seemed to pick up what he hadn't spoken aloud, and grinned wryly. "So how's Yuffie – "

"Lawsuit, Reeve," he snapped, the very mention of Yuffie setting him on edge.

"Alright, alright," Reeve said, holding up his hands in a placating fashion. "The lawsuit. Do you want the good news or the bad news first?"

"Good," Vincent answered shortly. Normally he was not one for procrastination, but after the last few days of brooding he could really use a break.

"Er," Reeve hesitated. Vincent gave him a questioning look. "I was expecting you to ask for the bad news first."

Vincent gave a small sigh, rubbing his forehead with one hand. "There is no good news," he stated, feeling sadly unsurprised.

"No. Well, the owner is only suing _you_, and not the WRO, so..." he trailed off under Vincent's stare. "Right. Well, the bad news then. The owner is a real opportunist, and he's suing you for every possible thing that he can. The total comes to...well, it comes to a lot."

"Just tell me, Reeve," Vincent sighed. He had done the math in his head – 15000 gil if he was unlucky –

"23109 gil."

"..._What_?" Vincent hissed, his demons howling the same question in indignation.

"I know. I talked to our lawyers, tried to see if they could lessen the amount, but there's nothing we can do about it. Apparently the owner can claim just about anything he wants."

Breathing deeply through his nose, Vincent closed his eyes, trying to keep himself, and his four friends, calm. He could handle this – it's not like he didn't have the cash to spare after the Jenova War and the Remnants. He just needed to stay cool and detached and this would be over before –

A grinning image of Yuffie popped up in his mind's eye, and he snapped his eyes open, only sheer determination keeping him from breaking things.

"I'll kill her," he snarled, struggling to keep his voice down. "That idiotic, stupid brat, I'll kill her – "

"Vincent, calm down – "

"I will _not_ calm down, damn it. This is her fault, and I'll be damned if I'm paying that lawsuit."

Reeve had a slightly wide-eyed, panicked look on his face. Vincent couldn't blame him - he was hardly ever this emotional.

Yuffie had a way of doing that to him.

"Vincent, if you don't pay it, you actually _will_ be in jail." Vincent opened his mouth to argue - or to just yell, he wasn't really sure - but Reeve interrupted him. "Listen, I know it's Yuffie's fault, but the owner saw _you_ tear open his oven and shoot out his chimney grate. You should go down to the café tomorrow and talk to the guy yourself."

Vincent slumped back, his gun hand flexing. "What good will that do?"

"Talk to him, explain what happened, and apologize with every second sentence. It's unlikely it'll accomplish anything, but you never know."

He glared at Reeve. "I will not apologize for acting in self-defence."

"Vincent..."

"Reeve."

Reeve frowned at him. "You either flex your people skills and talk to the guy or you pay the 23K." When Vincent didn't respond, he added, "Sulking won't help you."

"I am _not_ sulking," Vincent snapped.

"Yes, you are. Maybe you should talk to Yuffie, too, she usually cheers you up – "

Vincent's eyebrow twitched at her name. "This whole thing is her fault. And I strongly suggest you don't mention her at all from now on," Vincent growled, putting as much warning into his voice as possible. Reeve just grinned again, either oblivious or uncaring.

"Oh, c'mon, Vincent. Time's ticking on that bet, and if you won't even talk to her you'll never win."

"Remind me to shoot Cid in the kneecap the next time I see him," Vincent muttered. "And that bet and its participants are none of your concern."

"Sure it is," Reeve replied. Vincent's eyes narrowed, a thousand warning bells going off in his head. Noticing Vincent's sharp look, Reeve's paled slightly, his smile suddenly strained. "I mean, just because we're concerned about the parties involved, that's all," he added hastily.

Vincent kept his eyes locked on his. "Reeve..."

"Yes, Vincent?" Reeve's face was the definition of innocence.

Vincent glared.

For several seconds Reeve squirmed, before finally giving in.

"Alright, look, there's another bet going on," he started.

"Oh?" Vincent prompted.

"It's based on, you know...the outcome of you and Cloud," Reeve finished, grinning nervously. "There's quite the pot, actually."

Vincent just stared at him for a long moment, and felt a faint sense of satisfaction as Reeve tugged at his collar nervously. "Who exactly is participating in this bet?" he asked quietly, his tone laced with promises of death, pain, and destruction.

"I can't say," Reeve managed, despite looking terrified.

"..."

"I'm serious, Vincent, I don't know. It was Cid's idea; he's the one collecting all the bets."

"Cid."

"Yes, Cid. Now will you please stop glaring at me like that? I'm afraid I'll burst into flames."

Vincent kept glaring for a few more seconds, before finally relenting and looking away, standing as he did so. He'd had enough of this ridiculous situation, and he was going to put a stop to it. Without another glance at Reeve, he strode away.

"Vincent, go talk to the owner tomorrow," Reeve called after him. "I'm serious."

Vincent didn't bother responding, walking out the door and heading back to Seventh Heaven. He would be visiting Cid and putting an end to this –

'_Will you, now?' _Chaos asked in mocking tone. _'Have you so quickly forgotten our talk?'_

'_Do not try to threaten me again,'_ Vincent warned. _'I'm finished with this. I never should have agreed to it in the first place.'_

'_But you did agree,' _Hellmasker chimed in. _'And don't tell us that you couldn't have gotten out of it if you really wanted to.'_

'_If I hadn't Cid would have told her,' _Vincent reminded.

'_Oh, please,'_ Chaos drawled, sounding amused. _'There were plenty of ways you could've stopped that from happening. And even if he had, you were – whether she believed you or not – doing it to save her life, and have nothing to be ashamed of.'_

Vincent fumed silently, unable to refute the truth of the demon's words.

'_So if it was so easy to say no...why'd you agree to it?'_ Chaos finished.

Vincent was many things, but stupid wasn't one of them. He knew where the demon was going with this, and he was uncomfortable with it.

'_She's immature. She refuses to accept responsibility for anything.'_

'_Perhaps,' _Chaos mused. _'But who was it that accepted you so easily when you first joined AVALANCHE? Who is it that so easily gets under your skin, and gets emotion out of a man who has for his entire life been so adept at hiding them? Who – '_

'_Enough,'_ Vincent snarled, and for once the demons respected his wishes and ebbed out of his conscious mind. They had already made their point. And, Vincent grudgingly admitted, they were right.

But damn it allomg, attracted to her or not, he was still pissed. And one way or another, Yuffie was going to know about it.

* * *

Tifa couldn't help but drag her feet as she ascended the stairs. The day had been long, with a heavier than usual dinner crowd, and she had ended up closing far later than usual. It hadn't helped matters that Yuffie had taken off in the early afternoon, muttering something about 'apologizing properly to Vin-Vin' before all but running out the door.

Heading for her room, she paused by the kids' room, quietly opening the door and poking her head in. Denzel was snoring softly, lying on the rug, his homework scattered and forgotten around him. Smiling softly, she padded into the room, picking him up gently and tucking him into his bed. He muttered something unintelligible before turning over, his snoring starting anew. Grinning, she turned to Marlene, who was sleeping quietly in the next bed, her arms wrapped around her newest Choco Buddy.

Looking at the toy, Tifa's thoughts returned - for the umpteenth time - to Marlene's words to Cloud four days ago. What secret was she keeping for him? Was it serious?

_Was he leaving again?_

She shook her head, trying to clear it of her ridiculous worries. Yuffie could be right – it could be something as innocent as a date. But the fear that he would take off again wouldn't leave her alone. As she left the kids' room, the door closing with a muted click behind her, her thoughts drifted to those months of waiting by the phone for a call that never came.

She sighed softly, tiredly dragging herself back to her room. She had seen the new determination in him, the acceptance in him after finding him in Aerith's church, and she knew that he had changed. He wouldn't run anymore.

At least, that's what she hoped.

Entering her room, she flicked on the lamp, bathing the walls in a soft yellow glow. She pulled off her sneakers, tossing them aside carelessly before falling back onto the soft comforter. Staring at the ceiling, she tried to collect her thoughts.

Cloud would be back soon from his delivery run, if everything went well. Maybe she should talk to him...about what, exactly? About his secret? About how paranoid she was? About how in love she was with him and would he please stop and reassure her that she was not wasting her time? She absentmindedly twirled the wolf ring on her finger, the steel warm under her touch. He'd be home in just a few days, unless he was attacked by monsters, or bandits – they'd become a major problem recently –

Forcefully clamping down on her thoughts, she rubbed at her eyes, laughing at herself. She was doing it again - always worrying about him. About them. If she was honest with herself, she was tired of this weird dance of a relationship they had - always together but never quite close enough. She'd been in love with him for too long now - she was worried it would drive her insane before much longer. But if she pushed him, and he ran...

And now she was back to worrying about him leaving.

"Arrrrggghhhh," she grumbled, grabbing a pillow and clutching it to her face, as if it could magically smother her circular thoughts. Maybe she needed a vacation, away from everything - but the kids needed her here. Their midyear exams were coming up and she had promised that she would help them review.

After that, maybe she'd take some time off, just for herself.

She laughed softly. _Yeah, right._

Maybe she just needed to talk to someone, face to face over a cup of something hot and steaming. Normally she'd talk to Yuffie, but she had enough relationship problems of her own now. She could talk to Shera again, but that would mean heading all the way to Rocket Town.

She blinked. Elmyra. She hadn't talked to Aerith's adoptive mother in some time now, and it would be nice to see her again anyway. And she had always had that wise, experienced air about her. Maybe she could help her sort out her thoughts...

Armed with a tentative plan, her mind finally calmed, and she crawled into bed.

/\/\/\

It was late morning by the time Tifa finally headed out. The kids were in school, and Tifa figured that her regular lunch crowd could find somewhere else to eat for once. Catching a taxi to the edge of Edge, she walked briskly through the increasing amounts of rubble and scrap that marked the location that had once been Sector 6 and its infamous Wall Market, heading for Sector 5.

Passing by the church, she paused. Despite the holes in its roof, it still had a graceful air to it, the sunlight playing charmingly against the worn stone surface. Fresh flowers, wreathes, and homemade crafts lay outside the doors - grateful Geostigma survivors from all over the world paying their respects to a miracle that only a very few truly understood. Before she realized it, she found herself deviating from her path and wandering through the doors. The inside of the church, despite being strewn with broken pews and pillars - some of those thanks to her - held the same mystical grace that was apparent outside. Tifa slowly meandered down the middle aisle, the aged wood creaking beneath her weight. Stopping at the pond, she admired the way the sunlight played on the water, sparkling and bathing what remained of the ceiling above with a twisting, restless glow.

"I never thanked you properly." The words sprang from her lips, unbidden, but felt right, so she continued. "For bringing him back to us, I mean. For bringing him back to me."

A familiar ache of sadness started under her ribcage, rising up into her throat. God, she missed her. "Wish you could've done the same for yourself," she murmured, fighting a sudden onslaught of tears. "Could use your advice right about now."

A gentle breeze rustled through the church, disturbing the tranquil water and tugging at her hair. Tifa closed her eyes, smiling. "You really can hear me, can't you?" she asked into the air. And she knew it - she could sense her here, and out of the corner of her eye she swore she could see a swirl of pink and a feminine giggle. And there was someone else - black spikes and a wry grin.

"Hey, Zack," she greeted into the air, and the ripples in the water seem to grin and wave at her. "Aerith isn't whipping you too hard, I hope."

_You know me. I like it rough_, came a voice that was both in her head and nothing more than the wind. She laughed, wiping away a tear that had escaped.

"Knowing you two, I can only imagine the crazy stuff you guys are getting up to."

The world seemed to still into an awkward silence. Tifa raised her eyebrows.

"I don't even want to know, do I?" she grinned. "Anyways, I was just on the way to see Elmyra, and thought I'd drop by...Marlene says hi, by the way. And I'm not sure if he ever came by and said it himself, but Cid wants you to know that he's 'really goddamn grateful' for you saving Shera. Denzel's doing great too. He wants to be just like Cloud when he's older," she smiled. "And Cloud...Cloud's doing a lot better too. He smiles a lot more, and he's spending way more time with the kids. It's..." She cast around for an appropriate word that could describe how wonderful it was to have him around again and how aggravating it was not to be sleeping with him already, but came up empty. "It's nice," she finally managed. For a few moments she stayed silent, soaking in the serene atmosphere and the presence of her friends, letting it ease the worries of the last few days. Feeling lighter than she had in some time, she gave a small half-wave to the air.

"So I'll be heading off now. It was good to talk to you guys again. Try not to get up to too much mischief, alright?"

She turned, walking back to the doors as a small tornado of wind blew past, stirring up the dried and wrinkled lily pedals that rested on the floor into a maelstrom of off-white and faded-yellow. Humming softly, she continued on through the ruins of Sector 5.

Elmyra was one of very few people who had returned and stayed in their homes after the Meteorfall evacuation, mako radiation warnings be damned. Her house had not survived the collapse of Midgar with the same fortune that the church had - the entire left side of the house had been crushed by a falling support beam, tearing the building in half. Elmyra, upon discovering the destruction of her home, had simply shrugged and set about rebuilding, saying the old house was too big for her anyways.

Tifa couldn't help but breathe deeply as she approached the new, smaller house of Aerith's stepmother. Elmyra had diligently maintained the gardens in her deceased daughter's honour, and the lilies were blooming spectacularly, despite the poor growing conditions and the cold season. Tifa had no doubt that Aerith was helping them along from her place in the Lifestream.

She spotted Elmyra kneeling amidst the white and yellow blooms, digging in aged compost. Hearing Tifa's approach, the woman looked up, her wrinkled face crinkling into a kind smile.

"Tifa, dear, what a surprise," she said, standing elegantly and brushing off her skirt.

"Hello, Elmyra," Tifa greeted. "I hope I'm not intruding."

"Of course not, darling. Just let me clean up and I'll make us some tea. It's such a lovely day out, we can enjoy it outside."

Tifa smiled. "That would be wonderful, thank you."

Elmyra gestured towards the door, a faint twinkle in her eyes. "I'm sure we have lots to catch up on."

/\/\/\

The Cosmo Canyon bar was warmly lit, the flickering torches lighting up the red sandstone walls. Cloud sipped at his drink, relaxing in the easy-going atmosphere of light conversation, tinkling glasses and smoke. He had just arrived after finishing his deliveries in the area, and thought he would drop by and see Red. The watchman had informed him that Red was out patrolling the area, and would be back shortly, so Cloud had decided to grab a drink while he waited.

Gaia knew he needed it.

"Rough day, friend?"

Cloud raised his head to see the bartender give him a knowing look.

"Definitely a strange one," he sighed, running a hand through his hair.

"Try me. I promise you I've heard worse."

Cloud shrugged half-heartedly. "Well, why not..."

_Cloud pinched the bridge of his nose in frustration._

"_This is a COD package, sir. You need to pay for it," he explained for the eighth time._

"_Well I don't want to!" the old man exclaimed, waving his walker with more vigour than Cloud expected out of such a frail frame. "That old hag said she'd pay for the delivery!"_

"_Your wife explained to me quite clearly that you would be paying for it," Cloud ground out, his patience quickly wearing thin._

"_Well I don't have any money!" he yelled. "So just give the package here and get the money from that bitch!"_

"_I can't do that, sir. Either pay, or the package stays with me."_

_The old man let forth what Cloud assumed were a variety of insults and swears – thankfully he had lapsed into the native tongue of the Cosmo area, of which Cloud couldn't understand a word. Tapping his foot, Cloud waited as the verbal diarrhoea trickled off._

"_I don't have any money!" the man finally repeated in Common, looking murderous. Cloud was tired of the whole exchange._

"_Then I'll be keeping the package with me, sir, have a good day," he said, turning to leave._

"_Alright, alright, just hold on a minute! Goddamn kids are always in such a rush," he muttered. "I'll get you payment!"_

_The man disappeared back into the depths of his ramshackle house, returning a few moments later with – Cloud's eyes widened – a hunched, middle aged woman behind him._

"_Here, here!" The man thrust the woman towards him. Cloud instinctively backpedalled._

"_Wha – " Cloud started._

"_Payment. Payment!" the man shouted, pushing the woman further._

_The woman grinned at Cloud, revealing yellow and missing teeth._

"_Sweet Gaia – " Cloud swore, taking a step back._

"_Whas'a matter, you don't like my woman? Huh?" The old man was waving his walker again, spittle flying everywhere as he yelled._

"_I – no, it's not that, I just – "_

"_She not good enough for you and your fancy motorbike, huh? Is that it?"_

"_No, I'm, uh, I'm already taken, that's all," he improvised. "And it's company policy to only take gil as payment."_

"_She's very good, I promise!"_

"_You know what, no, it's fine, here, just take it," Cloud rushed, throwing the package at them before turning and, with as much dignity as he could muster, running back down the rough mountain path to where Fenrir waited patiently. Reaching the bike, he hopped on, gunning the throttle and speeding away from the house at a breakneck speed._

The barman was grinning, but it was a deep, rumbling laugh that caught Cloud's attention.

"I see you've met old Bartholomew, Cloud."

Cloud turned around to see Red padding through the crowd towards him, a twinkle of amusement in his one golden eye.

"I really wish I hadn't," Cloud replied, grinning despite himself. "How've you been, Red?"

The lion nimbly hopped up onto the stool next to Cloud, nodding at the bartender. "Good. I have been making my way through Grandfather's books – I never realized he had so many. And I've been writing my own, thanks to Reeve's speech recognition software."

"Writing about what?" Cloud asked, curious.

"The Jenova War. The Remnants." He shot Cloud a significant look. "Geostigma."

Cloud unconsciously rubbed at his arm, remembering the pain, the black pus. The despair. "Oh."

His discomfort must have shown on his face, as Red neatly changed the subject. "So in that little vignette you just shared with us, did you say you were 'already taken'?"

Cloud's eyes narrowed. Red just grinned, baring his teeth.

"I did, and it's none of your business," he said shortly, turning away.

"Of course, of course," Red replied easily.

After several moments of silence, Cloud dropped his head into his hands.

"How much have you heard?" he groaned, resigned to his fate of endless humiliation.

"Just that you and Tifa got extremely close in a small town called Frelt and that you are currently in the midst of a bet to ask her out before February eighteenth, otherwise Cid will inform her that you...forgive me, what's the word?"

"Spooned," Cloud grunted.

"Spooned her without her knowledge."

"Gaia, is there anyone who _doesn't _know about Frelt and the stupid bet?" Cloud asked, frustrated. "Do you know Marlene blackmailed me with that knowledge? Marlene. _Blackmailed._ It's ridiculous!"

"You do realize that by simply telling one more person you could be beyond all that," Red pointed out.

"What? Who?"

Red gave him a look generally reserved for inferior life forms. _"Tifa_, Cloud. Is it really so difficult for you to communicate with her?"

"_Yes."_

"Why?"

Cloud opened and closed his mouth several times, unable to come up with a decent response.

"...That's a good question," he finally replied, pondering. "I guess because I'm scared she'll say no if I ask her out."

Red let out a fur ball-hawking sound that Cloud assumed was a scoff.

"Tifa has been in love with you for years now, Cloud. She won't say no."

"What if I mess it up? What if I do something stupid and she hates me and doesn't want to talk to me ever again?"

"You're being irrational, Cloud."

"I know, but, there's just so many risks – "

"Be grateful that there is any risk at all," Red interrupted, tone sharp. Cloud blinked at him, surprised, until it dawned on him just who he was talking to.

"Shit," he muttered, feeling like a total dickhead. "I'm sorry, Red."

"You have nothing to apologize for," the lion replied, looking away. "I'm sorry for snapping at you, it was out of line."

"No, it wasn't," Cloud stated. "You're right, I should be grateful I even have this opportunity." He felt like such an idiot, wasting all this time, when Red would've given anything just to have the smallest chance at love. What the hell had he been thinking? When had he turned into such a coward?

"That's it," he snarled, slamming a hand down on the bar and rising to his feet. "I'm going to ask that wonderful woman out, and I'm going to do it properly the way she deserves."

Red did his feline equivalent of raised eyebrows.

"You're asking her out on a date, not marrying her," he reminded.

"I'll be doing both before long," Cloud proclaimed, full of confidence. Then _marrying_ sank in, and he sat back down heavily.

"On second thought, let's just leave it at the dating for now," he revised faintly. Forcefully dragging his mind back to a safer track that was not coated in white dresses and cakes, he turned to Red.

"So, what do I do?"

Red pulled back, looking alarmed.

"You're asking me? I don't know, don't you just ask her to a movie or a play or some such thing?"

"I really do want to make it special, though," Cloud mused. "After all the crap she's put up with from me over the years, she really deserves something spectacular."

"I got an idea."

Cloud turned to the barman, who had apparently been eavesdropping the entire time. If the guy could help, Cloud didn't give a damn.

"I'm open to anything right now, so go ahead."

"Well, you could do this..."

Cloud listened, nodding. He definitely liked it; it was just what Tifa deserved. There was just one part he didn't care for.

"Do I really have to wait that long?" he grouched. "That's a lot of time for Marlene – or, with the way this is spreading, anyone else on the planet – to blackmail me some more."

The barman shrugged. "Up to you, but if I were you I would wait."

Cloud pursed his lips, considering. It would take a lot of work, but if he pulled it off...

"I do believe I'll take your advice to heart, good sir," he nodded at the barman.

The man gave him a pained look. "Please don't talk like that."

"Erm, sorry." Cloud turned back to face Red, who was watching with a vaguely amused expression.

"Good luck, Cloud. I wish you all the best."

"Thanks a bunch, Red," he replied with feeling. "I owe you one."

Red just shrugged.

"You can thank me after. Now don't you have work to do?"

Cloud grinned, and without another word left the bar.

* * *

**A/N:** All I can say is that I am a total douchebag.

I really am sorry for not updating for so long. No excuses – I just kept deciding to work on other things rather than this, until all of a sudden it's 6 months without an update. I hope the 6200 word chapter helps make up for it a tiny bit.

So, about the chapter. Carrying on the style of _Spoons_, this is the midway chapter that has a bit of everyone's perspective, and I did enjoy writing Yuffie and Tifa again. A larger amount of srsns in this one than usual, especially Tifa, but I wanted to really show the effects of the past on current decisions. The plot will be picking up a lot next chapter – Cloud's a man on a mission and Vincent's out for blood.

...I really wanted to huggle Red as I was writing that last bit. It makes me to happy to think that somewhere along the line he gets some lovin'.


	6. Chapter 6: This Might Get Complicated

**A/N: **No, you are not hallucinating. This really is a new chapter of _Need for Dates._ I'll leave my inadequate apology for the end and let you get to it.

* * *

**Chapter 6: This Might Get Complicated**

It was a good thing Vincent had the foresight to leave Cerberus at the bar.

He stood in front of the café, his head craned upwards to better observe the blatant display of _dickery_ by the owner. On top of the café roof a giant, inflatable coffee cup was bobbing slightly in the morning breeze, FRESH BREWED COFFEE gleefully emblazoned in bright green on its side.

It had most certainly _not_ been there on Vincent's last visit.

'_Classy,'_ Chaos commented.

'_Very eye-catching,'_ Galian added.

'_I wonder how much it cost?'_ Hellmasker mused.

'_You three are so very _subtle_,'_ Vincent snarled. _'Now shut up and let me concentrate.'_

Feeling a vein twitch in his forehead as he took one last venomous look at the inflatable monstrosity, Vincent forcefully clamped down on his rage and turned his eyes to the (freshly repaired and repainted) door. Taking a deep, _calming_ breath, he strode forward and entered the café, the small bell announcing his entrance.

The shopkeep was immediately visible, scrubbing down a table. He turned at the sound of the chiming, and, to Vincent's great surprise, he grinned widely.

"I'll be damned, Vincent Valentine! Please, have a seat!" the man exclaimed, gesturing to the freshly cleaned table.

Vincent stared blankly at him, totally thrown off by the cheerful greeting. Maybe the guy was just being an asshole. Maybe the guy had spiked his morning coffee with hyper. Whichever it was, Vincent reminded himself, he had to be polite. Nodding jerkily, he took the proffered seat.

"Sonny Sicowski," the owner introduced, holding out a hand. Vincent, swallowing a great deal of disgust, shook it quickly. "What can I do for you, Vince? Can I get you anything? It's on the house."

Vincent suppressed a wince at the nickname. "No. Thank you," he added awkwardly, reminding himself silently to _be polite for just a little bit longer –_ "Mr. Sicowski, I was hoping we could discuss the incident a few days ago – "

Sicowski interrupted him with a careless wave of his hand. "As far as I'm concerned it's all done and settled. No need to waste any more gil on lawyers."

Vincent blinked. "What?" he asked, convinced that he'd heard wrong.

"Well I see no reason to drag this unpleasant business out any longer, do you? I've got my money, and you can put the whole thing behind you."

Vincent digested this for several moments. "I'm sorry, I just need to make this clear – the settlement was paid? In full?"

Sam nodded. "Every last gil was paid yesterday. I already ordered myself a new CakeMaster 9001," he added, his grin growing even wider. "You have no idea how long I've wanted one of those."

"Sounds delicious," Vincent muttered distractedly. He felt confused. He didn't _like_ feeling confused. "Who paid it? Reeve?"

"Reeve?" Sicowski repeated. "Reeve Tuesti, the WRO head? No, no, your little Wutaian friend who was here with you before."

Vincent went from confused to totally bewildered.

"_Yuffie_ paid it?"

"Yessir."

"…You're sure it was her."

"Sure as sure," Sicowski nodded, looking rather amused at Vincent's apparent confusion. "You didn't tell her to?"

"No." Vincent was having a great deal of difficulty trying to absorb this information. "Did she say _why_ she paid it?"

"Uh, she just said that you had sent her to deliver the settlement. She was in and out in under twenty seconds flat."

"Ah," said Vincent, trying to at least pretend he had some idea what the fuck was going on. "Well. Okay."

"Sure there's nothing I can get you?" Sicowski asked again. Vincent shook his head, standing and heading for the door. He didn't even bother responding to the man's cheerful _have a good day_, and hardly noticed the cold of the January air as he stepped back out into the street.

Yuffie had paid the lawsuit. That was tantamount to Yuffie accepting responsibility for her actions, and _that _was totally fucking crazy.

He stopped walking. Maybe she had somehow hacked his bank account, and paid with his money, though he couldn't see why she'd do such a thing. He pulled out his phone, dialing the automated banking service. Both of his accounts were untouched.

Frowning, he called Reeve.

"Hello, Vincent."

"I just spoke with the café owner."

"Yes, hello to you _too_, Reeve, how _are_ you this fine morning, oh I'm _good_, Vincent, thanks for asking – "

"Did you pay the settlement?" Vincent interrupted.

"What? No, of course not."

"Did you tell anyone in the WRO to pay it?"

"Vincent, I still have your lawyer on retainer. Why? Did the guy drop the suit?"

"No. Someone paid it."

"Who?"

Vincent was finding it difficult to say it out loud.

"Vincent?"

"…Yuffie."

"What about her?"

"Yuffie paid the lawsuit."

There was a long period of silence. Then Reeve laughed.

"Good one, Vincent. I didn't know you had it in you."

"I'm serious, Reeve."

More silence.

"Yuffie paid it?"

"Yes."

"…You're sure?"

"Yes."

"…You're _absolutely pos – "_

"_Yes_."

"Oh. Huh."

"…"

"I just…_wow_."

"Yuffie doesn't pay off other people's lawsuits, Reeve. I doubt she'd even pay off her own if she had one." There was a faint note of panic in Vincent's voice that he couldn't quite suppress.

"Well apparently she pays off yours," Reeve commented lightly. "You know I kinda thought you two going on a date was just a _for fun_ thing, but now Yuffie's all acting _responsible_. She must be serious about you."

"…"

"I'd ask you if you were serious about her, but you're serious about everything, so..."

"…"

"You're going to hang up on me now, aren't you."

"Yes."

"Always a pleasure chatting with you – "

Vincent snapped his phone closed.

\/\/\/\/

He returned to the bar in record time, and it was a good thing he did.

He rounded the final corner just in time to see Yuffie closing the front door behind her. He stopped in his tracks, and watched with narrowed eyes as she turned around and froze at the sight of him.

"Going somewhere?" he asked, his voice harsh. The sight of her trying to flee sparked the anger that had been simmering in his gut the last several days, combining with his confusion over Yuffie's recent actions to make something ugly rise up in his chest.

"Fuck dammit," Yuffie swore as she got over her surprise. "I knew I shouldn't have hit snooze, but _nooo_, just had to have that extra ten minutes of sleep, didn't I – "

"We need to talk, Yuffie."

"Wow, you sound _exactly_ like my old man when you say that," Yuffie said, in a tone that made it very clear it wasn't a compliment. "We can talk later, Vince, I'm going for a walk."

"No, you're not," Vincent snarled, moving closer. She wasn't going anywhere until she told him _why_, and he'd forcefully restrain her if he had to.

"Seriously, _exactly like my dad._ You haven't been hanging out with him behind my back, have you? That would be the most boring get-together _ever – "_

"Where were you going?" Vincent interrupted. "Back to Wutai, so you wouldn't have to explain yourself?"

Yuffie gave a short laugh. "Is that your Turk voice, come out to play? I told you, I'm going for a _walk_." She moved to brush past him.

"Damn it, Yuffie, _stop_," he exclaimed, and to his surprise she actually complied.

For a moment they just stood in silence, plumes of breath puffing into the air, and then Yuffie gave a great huff and leaned back against the wall of the bar, her arms crossed over her chest. Her face was stony, and she met Vincent's eyes with a vaguely defiant look.

"Yuffie," Vincent began.

"Vincent."

"Why'd you do it?"

"Do what?" she asked, looking up at him with an obviously fake innocence.

"Pay the settlement," Vincent growled, not feeling in the mood for her games.

"What settlement?"

"I talked to the owner, Yuffie. I know you paid him."

"Maybe it wasn't my money."

"I also know you didn't hack into my bank account and that Reeve didn't give you any money to pay on behalf of the WRO."

She gaped at him incredulously. "You checked to see if I _hacked your bank account?_ What the _hell, _Vincent?_"_

Vincent felt a faint surge of guilt, but he crushed it mercilessly. "Answer the question."

"I mean, where did you even get the idea I could hack anything? Do I look like Reeve? Do I sport neatly groomed facial hair and have a strange fetish for cats?"

"Yuffie – "

"Did it ever occur to you that I paid it because I'm a nice and wonderful person?"

"_Yuffie_," he snapped, and she fell silent, looking away from him to stare at her shoes.

"How about we just call it a late birthday present," she muttered.

Vincent sighed. "You already got me a birthday present," he reminded her. "I believe it was a giant cookie baked in the shape of male genitalia. You said the chocolate chips represented herpes."

Yuffie snickered. "Oh, yeah."

"…Well?" Vincent pressed, when it was apparent that Yuffie had no intention of continuing.

"Well what?"

He just stared at her. He found that Yuffie had an almost pathological need to fill silences, and after several seconds of her fidgeting and his unblinking stare she caved. She pushed away from the wall and scowled at him, poking a finger into his chest. He repressed a smirk at his success.

"Okay, you are seriously creeping me out right now and maybe I paid your stupid lawsuit because it was my fault and I wanted to apologize but I knew you wouldn't believe me if I just said sorry because no one thinks I would ever feel responsible for anything so I figured if I paid it off you would believe me and stop not talking to me because I don't like it when won't talk to me and – " she paused to suck in a breath – "I still can't believe you thought I hacked your bank account."

She said this all very fast, and it took Vincent a moment to process it all as she glared up at him.

"Oh," was what he finally said. "I see."

"Oh you _see_ now, do you, well praise be to His Holy Fatness Da Chao and all of his faces, Vincent can _see,"_ Yuffie snapped.

He gave her a look. "There's no need for sarcasm, Yuffie."

For a moment she continued to glare at him, but all at once the anger seemed to drain out of her and she looked away, slumping back against the wall. "I wasn't being sarcastic. Da Chao is a fat bastard," she muttered, eyes flickering back to Vincent cautiously.

Vincent couldn't quite repress a grin, and Yuffie gave him a small smile in return. He felt strangely relieved.

And still a wee bit guilty.

"I apologize for thinking you hacked my bank account," he added stiffly.

Yuffie nodded. "I apologize for locking you in a kitchen full of rabid fangirls who wanted nothing more than to tie you down and have their dirty way with you."

Vincent grimaced at the imagery, but nodded as well. Several moments of silence passed.

"Hey Vinnie?"

"Hn."

"You know I would never, like…do anything I thought would hurt you, or something, right? Not intentionally, I mean – maybe accidentally 'cause even someone as awesome as me makes mistakes now and then but – I can take things seriously, and, and if it's something important to you – for you – whatever, then you know I'd be really careful and would try really hard not to mess it up, because, you know, I wouldn't want you to…to go all coffin-repenty, and stuff." She paused. "Right?"

Vincent blinked at her in confusion. It struck him then how tired Yuffie looked – the kind of look someone got from spending a long period of time thinking very hard about something. "I…what is this about, Yuffie?"

"Uh," Yuffie hesitated, before giving a quick grin and shaking her head. "Nothing. Forget about it. I'm gonna go for that walk now." She pushed away from the wall and skirted around him, her pace hurried. Her abrupt departure took Vincent by surprise, and before he could call after her she had already vanished around the side of the bar.

* * *

Operation Woo-Tifa was officially underway.

The guard at Rufus' new place in Kalm waved Cloud through without bothering to ask for ID – Cloud delivered parcels for the ex-president fairly frequently. He rolled through the gate, shutting off Fenrir in front of the relatively modest front door, considering it was the house of possibly the richest man in the world. A doorman granted him entrance, and he headed down the front hall, admiring the elegant but simple décor of the rooms he passed. Rufus could be an asshole, but he had excellent taste.

He could hear the muted sounds of a TV, and he followed the noise to the lounge. Reno's red shock of hair was immediately apparent from where he sprawled on the couch, and Rude was perched on a stool, diligently cleaning a disassembled handgun that he had laid out on a windowsill. Rufus sat in a faded and very comfortable looking leather armchair, a glass of wine gripped lazily in one hand and a book in the other. Reno and Rude seemed to be arguing about something on the TV, where an announcer was discussing an annual event that was coming up. None of them gave any sign that they had noticed Cloud, but Cloud knew they were very much aware of his presence.

"I need a favor," he said as way of announcing himself.

The conversation in the room stilled. Reno craned his head back and gave Cloud a curious look, while Rufus just glanced at him before returning his attention to his book. Only Rude didn't give any visible reaction – Cloud couldn't tell if the sunglass-sporting man was looking at him, the gun he was cleaning, or the TV, where some guy was now rattling on about the splendiferous qualities of a hyper-absorbent towel.

"Does it have to do with that contest in which you and Mr. Valentine are currently competing?" Rufus asked blandly, still not looking up from his book.

"You know, somehow I'm not even surprised you guys know about it," Cloud sighed. "Yes, it's about the contest."

Rufus nodded once, snapping the book shut and turning his full attention to Cloud. "Then we'll assist you in any way we can."

Cloud blinked. _Well that was easy._ _Almost too easy…_

He narrowed his eyes suspiciously. "You're agreeing without even knowing what I'm going to ask you for?"

Reno grinned. "Boss man here bet big bucks on you, Cloud. And so did we," he said, indicating himself and then Rude, who nodded in agreement. "If you win, we win. Simple as that."

"Huh," Cloud said, unsure whether he should be offended or flattered. "Well, in that case, I need you," he nodded at Rude, "to make me some fireworks."

Rude's lips twitched up in an almost imperceptible smile at the word _fire_. "ShinRa's finest, at your service."

"Here are the details," Cloud said, tossing Rude a scrapbook. Rude flipped through it, nodding to himself.

"Should be doable. When do you need them by?"

"Erm, February 14th," Cloud said, feeling his cheeks flush slightly.

"Memorial Ball?" Rufus guessed. Cloud nodded. The Midgar Memorial Ball – the 'Memorial' part being a recent addition to the title – was an annual event that Shinra had established precisely 23 years ago, as an opportunity for the many thousand Shinra employees who worked in Midgar to let loose. It was also responsible for a twenty year tradition of Plate children with October birthdays, thanks in part to its convenient placement on the February calendar and in part to the copious amounts of alcohol that Shinra so gracefully provided. This year marked the first year since the Jenova War that the event would once again take place, and Cloud intended to take full advantage of it.

Reno snickered. "Never took you for a romantic."

"Anything else?" Rufus asked, ignoring Reno with the air of someone who made ignoring people a marketable skill.

"I need a suit, or a tux, or something. Something classy."

"_Ah,"_ Rufus breathed, sounding very much like he had just tasted something particularly delicious. He got gracefully to his feet, looking Cloud up and down with a critical eye.

"Do you know what colour Ms. Lockhart's dress will be?"

"Er, no," Cloud responded, somewhat alarmed at the strange glint in Rufus' eyes.

Rufus hummed thoughtfully. "No matter, black is always fashionable. Come here so I can take your measurements."

Cloud, feeling distinctly ill-at-ease, walked forward so he stood in front of the ex-president. Producing a tape measure seemingly out of nowhere, Rufus got to work.

"Anything else you need?" he asked as he measured Cloud's shoulders.

"Uh," Cloud started, starting to feel very, very claustrophobic under Rufus' attentions. "Do you guys happen to know where I can take some basic dance lessons?"

Reno guffawed loudly at this. "Seriously, _dancing? _Gimme a break, you couldn't learn to dance if Minerva herself came down and – "

"Reno can teach you," Rufus interrupted.

"_What!"_ Cloud and Reno yelled at the same time. Reno was wearing a horrified look that Cloud was sure mirrored his own.

"All Turks are required to possess at least a moderate skill level in a variety of dances, as many are required to do undercover operations in high-class society," Rufus explained, turning Cloud around as he continued measuring. "Reno is no exception. He is more than qualified to teach you the basics."

Reno was now looking like a kicked dog. "Can't Tseng do it? He's crazy good at that stuff – remember that award he won – "

"Tseng's not here, Reno. You'll do it." There was a finality in Rufus' voice that was indisputable.

Reno glowered at Cloud as if it was he who'd suggested the whole thing. Cloud glowered back, equally unhappy.

_You're doing it for Tifa,_ he reminded himself. _Just pretend Reno's a girl._

His glower at Reno turned into a thoughtful stare.

_Huh. That's not too hard, actually._

"Strife." Reno's voice was sharp.

"Mm?"

"Why are you staring at my chest?"

_Just imagining you with breasts._ Cloud couldn't imagine _that _particular statement going over well, so he settled with the next thing that came to mind. "I'm wondering if you wax."

_Er, shit -_

Reno made an odd noise that was halfway between a choke and a splutter. Rude coughed lightly into his hand, which Cloud decided to interpret as his way of guffawing loudly.

Rufus finished his measurements, straightening up. "He does, actually."

"Is that another Turk requirement? Is chest hair not allowed in 'high-class society'?" Cloud asked, deciding to roll with his accidental slip since Reno looked so disturbed at the current conversation.

"It's a requirement for anyone who wants to wear their shirt open and not look like a douche," Rufus replied matter-of-factly.

"_Will you all please stop talking about my chest."_

"Do you have anywhere important to be right now?" Rufus asked Cloud.

"Uh, no, not really."

"Excellent. Reno, start with a basic waltz. I want you to cover swing dancing and the cha-cha as well. The tango, too, if you think he can manage it."

"Yes, boss," Reno said unhappily.

"Rude. Be discreet when you buy your supplies. I don't want Reeve knowing what we're up to."

Rude nodded. "Understood."

"Your suit will be ready on the twelfth. I'll need you to try it on then so I can make any necessary adjustments." Rufus' tone made it clear that Cloud would show up on the twelfth, or else. Cloud was suddenly hyper-aware that he was talking to the man who not only had once been in charge of the most powerful business corporation in the world, but had also stared a Weapon in the face right before he blew its head off with a giant canon _and_ possessed the presence of mind to unload a full clip of ammo at an enemy while falling several dozen stories off a skyscraper.

Not to mention that he had owned a fucking _panther_ for a pet.

"Okay," Cloud agreed, somewhat meekly. He looked around the room, wondering if that panther was still alive, lurking and waiting for the right opportunity to take another shot at eating his face off.

"And don't interrupt me while I'm sewing." All his orders issued, Rufus turned on his heel and strode out the room.

Cloud blinked after him. "He's kind of scary sometimes, isn't he."

"You have no idea," Reno drawled, standing up and approaching Cloud. "Now let's get this over with."

"Right," Cloud said.

"Put your hand on my shoulder."

"This is going to be really awkward, isn't it."

"Yes, and I hate you, and you better fucking win or this will all be for nothing – your _other hand_, Strife."

"Sorry."

Rude coughed lightly into his glove.

"_Fuck you, baldy."_

\/\/\/\/

Cloud returned home late, and was pleasantly surprised to see the light was still on. He lifted the door as it opened to stop it from squeaking, not wanting to wake up the kids, closing it quietly behind him.

"Welcome back." From across the bar Tifa smiled at him as she put away the dry dishes.

"Thanks. Late customer?"

"That, and he was drunk. I'll spare you the details, but he needed some encouragement to leave."

Cloud grinned, moving to help put away the plates. "I hope you didn't break anything."

"Just his pride. Why are you home so late?"

"I got a call from Rufus," Cloud lied smoothly, fighting hard to keep his nervousness from showing. This was the moment everything else depended on. "He had a gift for us, actually."

"Oh?" Tifa looked at him curiously. "What is it?"

Cloud handed her the envelope casually before returning his attention to the dishes, trying to gauge her reaction out of the corner of his eye. "Tickets to that ball that's coming up. Apparently he had extras and wanted to thank us for helping out with the Remnants."

"That's nice of him," Tifa said, with a dryness that suggested Rufus Shinra could take his niceness and shove it somewhere anatomically uncomfortable. "The Memorial Ball is on Valentine's Day, though, isn't it? It'll be a really busy night."

"Lots of couples?"

"Lots of singles," Tifa corrected, grinning wryly. "Hoping for either an easy hook-up or enough alcohol to forget that they've no one to celebrate with."

"Ah," said Cloud, trying to keep the disappointment out of his voice. "So you don't want to go?"

"Well…" Tifa tapped a foot pensively. "You'll go with me, right?"

"Of course," Cloud reassured. "I couldn't in good conscience leave you to fend off Rufus by yourself." _Please say yes please say yes please say yes –_

Tifa smiled, and Cloud swore he could see a hint of a blush. "Oh, alright. I've been meaning to take a day off anyways."

Cloud somehow managed to tone down the stupid grin that was threatening to a small smile. "I'm sure it'll be a night to remember."

* * *

"Hah!" Aerith yelled triumphantly. "I knew she'd go for it. The rest of this will be a cakewalk."

Zack raised an eyebrow. "I think you're underestimating Cloud's ability to mess up even the simplest things when it comes to the ladies." _Or my ability to sabotage him._

Aerith waved a hand airily. "Even he can't mess it up now. So what are you going to do other than fail?" she asked, grinning up at him.

"Hey, I had to let them work out their issues," Zack said defensively. "Now you just wait and see how a master works. Your mind will be blown, I assure you – " He stopped abruptly, looking downwards. "Oh shit."

"What?" Aerith asked, following his gaze. "Oh, _shit."_

**Meanwhile, elsewhere in Edge…**

"Do you know where I can find this woman?"

The materia vendor squinted at the picture, and after a moment his confused look turned into a pronounced scowl.

"Yeah, I know where you can find that stinkin' _thief_," the vendor spat. "She works with Lockhart down at Seventh Heaven. It's a bar straight that aways, 'bout fifteen minute walk from here." He jerked his head in the direction of the bar. "She in some sort of trouble?" he asked, sounding hopeful.

Staniv sighed. "In my experience, Yuffie is _always_ in some sort of trouble. Thank you for your assistance."

The man grinned. "My pleasure."

Staniv turned and began the walk towards the bar, weaving his way through the crowded marketplace. He couldn't wait to be back in Wutai and away from the grey, drab colours of this noise-filled city. Thank Leviathan that Yuffie's kleptomaniac tendencies made her an easy person to find.

"Are you out of your mind, kid? I'm not paying you a thousand gil for a photo – "

"Dude, don't you know who that is? That's Vincent Valentine and Yuffie Kiser – Kisu – Yuffie, from AVALANCHE!"

Staniv stopped and looked around. A young boy was waving a photo at a man wearing an _Edge Inquirer_ hat. An ominous feeling settling in his gut, Staniv changed direction and walked up behind the boy, peering over the child's head for a better look at the photograph.

"Oh sweet Da Chao," he breathed when he realized what he was looking at. The boy turned around at his exclamation.

"You want this photo, mister? That's Vincent Valentine and Yuffie Kiso – "

"Kisaragi," Staniv finished. "Yuffie Kisaragi."

"That's her!" the boy beamed. "And I'll sell it to you for only a thousand."

Staniv didn't even try to barter. And he didn't head for Seventh Heaven.

He would return to Wutai.

Godo had to be informed of this at once.

* * *

**A/N:** So. Uh...yeah, not really much I can say. Got stuck, lost interest, got distracted by Bleach. I didn't know where I wanted to go with this fic - actually I knew where I wanted to _go_ but not how to get there. Anyways, it doesn't matter. Almost a year and a half since an update is just pathetic, and I know how frustrating it is as a reader, and I'm sorry. I really am. I'm not gonna start making promises that I'll update super quickly because given my track record in these matters it'll just make a liar. I will say that the next chapter is already partially written and the rest of the fic is pretty well entirely outlined and I'll try to get it up as soon as I can. I also have several people who are more than happy to harass me through a variety of mediums in case I start slacking.

Now, I need you guys to help me out with something. On my profile you'll find a poll of various FF7 men. I'm not going to tell you what the poll is for, only that it will affect something in the final chapter. Please vote!

_also, made some minor edits to chapters 1-5 to fix some awkward wordings/bad grammar_


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